


To Find a Home

by charmac



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Medical Trauma, Original character is an ex-slave of Jabba the Hutt, Past Abuse, Romance, Slow Burn, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmac/pseuds/charmac
Summary: For 4 years now, Clara has been a woman on the run, terrified at the possibility of a bounty over her head thanks to her ex-master Jabba the Hutt. All she has is a weapon on her back and the hope that one day, even after the death of one of the biggest crime lords in the Outer Rim, she can finally be free once and for all.But when a group of raiders invade her camp on Sorgen, shoot her right where she stands, and leave her for dead, she thinks it's all over.The Mandalorian has other plans.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Original Character(s), Din Djarin & Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. The Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Clara and Din's story starts at Season 1 Episode 4: The Sanctuary.

Sanctuary. That was all Din Djarin really wanted. He never could have imagined that his biggest mission would involve handing a small alien child to a group of Imperials, only to take the child back and (kind of) raise it as his own while looking for its own kind.

But, here he was. The Weirdest Space Dad in the Galaxy, looking after this little womp rat all on his own, all the while finding bounty hunting jobs where he could. But now was not the time to take up another job. At the moment, for the sake of the child's safety, Din decided his next best move would be to hide out for a while; lay low, on a planet called Sorgen.

The problem was, he couldn't really find a safe place to settle. At least at first, until a pair of farmers came by his ship the night of his arrival, fully equipped with a hovering buggy and some supplies to help them get by.

“Excuse me... excuse me, sir.”

Din, who was not up for dealing with anyone around this time of night, let out an exasperated sigh. “Is... there something I can help you with?” His voice sounded more bitter out loud than it did in his head.

“Raiders. W-We have money!” One of the men replied. He was a stammering mess.

“So you think I’m some kind of mercenary?”

The two men look at each other puzzling. “You are a Mandalorian, right?” The one with longer hair asked. “Or at least you’re wearing Mandalorian armour... I’ve read a lot about your people and... tribe, and if what I think is true..-“

“We have money!” The other interrupted.

Now this, piqued Din’s interest. “How much?” 

“It’s everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen. We’re farmers... Our whole village chipped in.”

This didn’t sound very promising. Din was trying to get away from trouble, not run towards it. “It’s not enough.”

“Are you sure?! You don’t even know what the job is.”

“I know it’s not enough... good luck.” He made his way towards the hangar door, and when it steamed and opened with the hiss, the two men jumped out of fear. As Din climbed up the ramp, he heard them talk softly under their breaths.

“C’mon... let’s head back...”

“Took us a whole day to get here... now we have to ride back with no protection, with an injured passenger into our farm in the middle of nowhere…”

It was then that Din heard a cry that changed everything. Just a few feet behind the men was a buggy. It had a few measly items on it, but also on it was the crumpled up body shivering in the corner that caught Din’s eye.

~

“I should be dead.” Clara thinks to herself. “I have been bleeding out for Maker knows how long, have been putting pressure on my own leg, but how in the hell does that matter. I should be dead, or at the very least unconscious.”

Clara has told herself this on many the occasion. For whatever reason, the galaxy doesn’t seem to want to leave her alone.

Having said all that, if this is what dying was like, Clara was sick of it. A blaster shot to the head would have been simple and effective. Should would have been out like a light and wouldn’t have had time to process everything. Being thrown to the jaws of a beast would have been much more climatic and painful, but not for very long, she’d suspect. 

But bleeding out? It’s your life force slowly seeping out of you. Every sense is dulled and heightened all at the same time. While she wanted to go quickly into the night and embrace the darkness, adrenaline was the only thing keeping her awake, leaving her in a sobbing gasping panic.

“We’re nearly there, Miss! There’s a Mandalorian over there who might be able to help. He’s got a pretty big ship.”

More then anything, Clara wished one of these two… well, idiots would come in the back of the buggy and help her through the pain, stop the bleeding, anything, but nope. Clearly, they had a lot more on their minds than a young woman dying in the back of their buggy. 

When the buggy hit a bump and lurched to a stop, a wave of searing hot pain went up her leg. As more blood gushed down, Clara tried her bed to suppress a howl of pain.

Her vision was starting to get foggy, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched the two strangers run towards the Mandalorian and his big fancy ship. As for her hearing, it sounded muffled, as if she were swimming into the depths of a watering hole.

“So you think I’m some kind of mercenary?”

The voice was low and gruff, slightly muffled due to a modulater. 

“Oh Kriff, they chose the wrong guy to mess with. 500 credits says he’s a bounty hunter who sensed I was here and is out to kill me.” Clara thought. “Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Clara couldn’t believe these thoughts were even going through her head. She’d worked this hard for the past 4 years to stay out of trouble and stay alive… shouldn’t she keep fighting the urge to close her eyes a bit longer?

Another searing pain from her leg gave her the answer, jolting her awake and causing her such a fright and panic that she Clara curled into herself and sobbed.

Yup… staying alive it is… No matter how much it hurts.

~

Din’s heart thudded in his chest angrily. All this time, these men were blubbering for ages and not once did they mention someone needed help.

“Kriff, you could have told me someone was injured.” Din ran over to the buggy, and as he got closer, he came upon a small woman, holding back sobs and caked in blood, shivering in the corner.

~  
The Mandalorian was tall, a silvery statue made of the finest beskar. He had his biggest mission written all over. Almost definitely a Hunter, she notes. Maybe even a killer if he has to be. 

Clara expects him to stand there looming over her, point his blaster at her head and “bring her in, warm or cold.”. She expected him to end it all right then and there.

But much to her surprise, he kneels down at her side. Clara feels a gloved hand gently move her hair out of her face and watched his helmet tilt down to meet her gaze in concern.

“Miss, I’m going to need you to stay awake for me, okay? Your idiot friends are gone to get you some medical supplies, and then I’m going to patch you up as best as I can.”

There’s a gentleness to his voice, a warmth that shocks her to her core. There’s so much light and life in his, despite the cold and deceiving appearance of the helmet. 

He was here to help.

~

“We were getting to that.” One of the men argued.

Din didn’t want to hear their bullshit excuses. He had acted like a complete asshole when there was a pressing matter at hand. How he had just acted went against everything he believed in. “Listen to me right now.” Din snapped. “I need you both to go to the main storage unit of my ship and get me my medkit. Should have gauze, some bachta spray, all the necessities. Make up for your actions and get this woman some help.”

Afraid of his tone of voice (they should be afraid. He wanted to rip them in half for leaving her here like this), they scrambled up the ramp to get supplies. 

“Miss, I’m going to need you to stay awake for me, okay? Your idiot friends are gone to get you some medical supplies, and then I’m going to patch you up as best as I can.”

The woman was tiny, so small and frail that Din was afraid that if he were to lift her into his ship that she would shatter to pieces. She had wounds and scars littered all over her body, the freshest being at her collarbone, shoulders, and legs, just barely missing any vital organs in the chest or abdomen. Even then, if she had been on this buggy for a while, she should have been dead by now from the blood loss or infection from the rest of her injuries. He had to hand it to her, she was a fighter. 

Her eyes had snapped open at the sound of a new voice and tears rolled down her cheeks as she moaned in pain. “T-Thank you…”

Din took off a glove and offered her his flesh hand for a moment, giving hers a reassuring squeeze. His eyes wandered to her leg, which looked the most concerning, and then tilted his helmet back to meet her gaze again. “Blaster shot?” He asked.

“N-Not the only one, I’m afraid. But… t-t-that one’s been bleeding the most for the longest. Kriff, I hate those raiders…”

The two idiots came back with everything Din asked for and more. He snapped the kit out of their hands and placed it at his side. “I’m going to need one of you two to put pressure the wound on her collar bone, while the other loads some of my gear onto the rest of the buggy.” He found himself snarling at them since it was the only thing that could keep them moving. “If you two have lodging, we must head there to get her better and to lay low while we come up with a plan.”

The long haired one stayed at Din’s side while the other ran back to the Razor Crest to start packing. “Whatever you need, I’m here.” They kept trying to reassure Din, however he didn’t have much confidence in their abilities after the stunt they had just pulled. 

Meanwhile, Din turned his attention back to the woman. “Do you have a name, cyar'ika?” he kept his tone softer with her, as she was already afraid enough and didn’t need some masked stranger making her nervous. This was one of the many occasions that he wished he could take his helmet off and show her he was a human being with human eyes and expressions and cares, but he couldn’t risk his creed. Especially not for a stranger, even if they’re hurt. 

“Clara…” A pair of bright green eyes gaze right into his visor. 

Din used his other ungloved hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks, hoping to make her a bit more comfortable. “Well Clara, if you’re okay with it, I’ll have a look at your leg, stop the bleeding, and get it sprayed and dressed. This man here will have to apply pressure to your collarbone for a few minutes, because we have to get that bleeding under control. I’ll deal with that one after.”

“Do whatever you need to do… I’m just glad you all found me.”

Din’s assistant, who looked slightly uncomfortable at the idea of putting pressure on a wound close to the breast, sent a grimace his way as he applied pressure with one hand on the wound, and held Clara’s hand with the other. She was going to need a hand to hold through this, Din could tell. 

She tried her best to hold back a sob as pressure was applied, but her tears told Mando otherwise. He needed to be quick and distract her as best he could.

“Alright Clara, I’m going to work on your leg. Try your best to stay still and take in some even breaths for me.”

She was already wearing a dress, therefore he could head right to the source of the bleeding rather than having to cut any pants off. She was shot right at the shin, and lucky for Din, there wasn’t any debris in the wound, so after a cleaning, he could bachta spray it and stitch her up as best he could asap. The cleaning was probably the worse part of it all, because the stinging and prodding of the wound combined with the blinding pain that was already there was probably a lot to handle. Despite it all, Clara did as she was told and closed her eyes and breathed through the worst of it, letting out a few hiccuped sobs in-between each swipe of the cleaning solution.

As Din started applying the bacta spray, she slowly started to relax bit by bit. “You’re doing great Clara…” his voice came out as a soft hum. “The worst of this is nearly over, and hopefully the spray will help to numb the pain after a while.”

“Yeah, but the needle’s still to come.” She muttered through gritted teeth. “I hate looking at those things.”

Din, always having the dark sense of humour in the room, chuckles to himself. “You faced a band of raiders by yourself, but you can’t handle getting your leg stitched up?”

“Everyone’s afraid of something, Mandalorian. Talk to me and distract me or something. Anything sounds good with that voice of yours.”

While she’s chatty, he stealthily starts her stitches. She purposefully keeps her gaze fixed on his visor so that she wouldn’t make herself faint. “The modulator does the bulk the work.” Din finds himself smiling bashfully, and thanks the Maker above that she can’t see all of his reactions. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me what my name is.”

“Figured you wouldn’t want to give it to me, since you’ve got to follow some creed or what not. It’s also why I won’t get to see the face of my saviour tonight, I guess…”

“You would be right. Most people just call me Mando.”

He’s about to bandage the leg when the other man comes out with the kid in hand, the last thing needed before they would head to the nearest village. The kid stared in wonder at the scene before him and waddled onto the wagon at Clara’s side. “W-Who is this little guy?” Her voice trails into an adoring whisper, as if she’s afraid she (of all people) would scare him away. 

“Long story short, he’s my traveling companion. I’m trying to help him find his own kind again.” 

She strokes his ear softly and the kid actually coos and purrs in response, snuggling in close to her side. “So, that rules out you being a green creature…”

Din shrugs. “I can promise you at the very least that I am not green.”

Once the bandage is on, Din wipes his hands in a wet rag that one of the men gave him. He had to admit, he actually did quite a good job on her leg… it was so much easier tending to someone else’s wounds rather than his own. It was a lot cleaner than what he would have done to himself.

“Alright.. you can stop applying pressure to her collar bone wound.” Din says to the farmer. “You two can get the buggy going so we can make it to the village by morning.”

Giving him a kurt nod, the farmer did what he was told without hesitation and helped his friend at the front of the buggy. As Din helped Clara sit up, they started their journey toward their village.

~

Clara couldn’t have been more thankful when Mando made the man leave. There was a significant amount of weight lifted. Her leg, which had been the main source of her worries, had been patched up beautifully, and while it was still in pain, it was a lot more dull thanks to the Bacta spray and Mando’s steady hand.

“I’m going to get you to sit up if you can.” Mando decided. “It’ll make my job a bit easier and you more comfortable in the long run…”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Clara answers. “Mind giving me a hand?”  
Without hesitation, Mando carefully slipped an arm under Clara’s back and his flesh hand cradled her the back of her head to keep her steady, in case the blood loss would make her faint. She let out a small moan in pain at the movement, but as Mando flinched, Clara found herself trying to reassure him. “I-It’s okay… I’m okay.. Keep going.”

He finally got her to sit up, her top half leaning against the wall of the buggy. When she could finally rest, Clara lets out a shaky sigh of relief as she regained her composure. 

“This wound here was a graze… They could have hit me in the chest but I deflected the blaster just in time.” She said softly. “I doesn’t feel as bad as the other one.”

“Should be a quick fix, then.” The Mandalorian undid his cape and draped it over her just below where the wound was, for modesty. Then, he went to work. 

Before, Clara was in a bit of a panic at the idea of a stranger piecing her back together. However, she quickly learned that Mando was quick and very experienced when it came to tending wounds. 

Despite his intimidating appearance, he did what he could to make her feel safe and comfortable around him, of which she couldn’t say about the other two farmers. 

He was… kind for a Bounty Hunter. Kinder and more selfless than most people she had ever met.

~

There was a comfortable silence between them for a while as Din continued his work. The kid hopped into Clara’s lap and gave her a reassuring hug as he went in with the cleaning solution again, which definitely helped take her mind off the pain. If anything, the fatigue was finally starting to catch up with her, no matter what she was feeling.

“I want to thank you, for saving my life…” Clara whispers sleepily. “Death by raiders was not the way I wanted to go.”

As Din used bacta spray the wound, she let out a soft sigh as the pain slowly began to fade away. “I’d be curious to know why you faced them alone..” Din mumbled, voice low in concentration. Her eyes fluttered shut as he got out the needle to begin stitching. “I’m sorry for this.. I swear I’m almost done.”

Her frail hand found his ungloved one as he started stitching. It was kind of cute, in a screwed up way… her taking on a band of pirates all on her own with blaster wounds to show for it, but she couldn’t handle needles. 

“I’ve fended for myself the past 4 years, somehow I’m still alive. Figured some thugs would be nothing…” she hisses as the needle enters. “But they had a few tricks up their sleeves. They took my weapons, the little supplies I had left, everything. I couldn’t stop them. Then, they went to the village…” She opens up one eye to look at him and tries her best to flash him a pained smile. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can help me kick their asses and get my stuff back.”

“First, you need to rest.” Din says gently. “Get a few hot meals in you, get strong. Then, we can see what you can do.”

“You sure you’re not a nurse droid or something? Your bedside manner is superb. You wouldn’t even need Bounty Hunting as a side hustle. You could do nursing full time.”

Din finished his row of stitches and cleans his hands again to get ready to apply her bandages. “Ah, so I see the painkillers I slipped you are starting to finally work.” Mando’s helmet tilts curiously. “And what makes you think I’m a bounty hunter?”

Clara pauses for a moment in thought. Din is so close to her now that he can hear her breath tremble again, even through is helmet. 

“I was a slave in Jabba’s palace for a while.” She finally answered. “On the odd occasion, I’d see a man in Mandalorian armour who’d sometimes work for my master. Looked a lot like you, but less shiny.”

And suddenly, it all comes together for Din. She had to have been one of the many slaves of Jabba the Hutt who had been lucky enough to escape. The thought of what that monster may have done to her made Din’s blood run cold. 

“So yes… in case you’re curious, I may or may not have a bounty over my head. I don’t know… but wherever I go, trouble seems to follow. I can’t seem to escape them, no matter how hard I try.” A few tears roll down her cheeks again, but she tries her best to maintain her composure. “Are you going to cause me any more trouble, Mando?”

~

His silence is killing her. Or could quite literally lead to her actually getting killed… or turned in. But Clara knew that if there was any hope of finding a kindred spirit in this galaxy; anyone at all, she would have to come clean and be honest with them.

And despite the fact that there were a couple of red flags telling her that there was a possibility that the Mandalorian could be bad news, her heart was telling her otherwise.

“First of all, my name is Din.” Clara’s rescuer said softly. “Mando is what my bounties and my employers call me, and if we’re going to establish some sort of a connection here, I want you to call me by name.”

A connection? Oh Maker…

“Second of all, yes, I am a Bounty Hunter. But I can assure you I never worked with Jabba. Even my most intense jobs don’t involve the mistreatment of innocents, which he was known for. I didn’t support it then, and I still don’t support it now.” He started to bandage up the wound, but does so very slowly as he chooses his words. “And no, even if you did have a bounty over your head, I wouldn’t think anything of it considering your situation.”

Clara can’t believe her luck. She also can’t believe she knows his name… The fact that he shared that alone is huge for any Mandalorian, let alone him. “Really?”

Din’s visor meets her gaze for a moment before he continues his work. “If that is your honest truth, then yes, really.” The child, who was still curled up in Clara’s lap, chirped, almost as if it were in agreement. “If it makes you feel any better, this kid here used to be one of my bounties. Now look at us…”

Clara looks down at the little green bean, into his expressive little black eyes. “Why would anyone ever want to put a bounty on this little guy’s head?” Clara murmured. 

Din shrugged, and after finishing the bandaging, he sat at Clara’s side to keep her company. “I don’t know… probably a similar reason as to why you have one.”

At that moment, Clara finally felt like she wasn’t alone in the galaxy, for what felt like the first time in years.

~

Once the coast was clear and Din knew that Clara was in stable condition, the rest of the buggy ride was quiet. The group all knew she had a long day, and despite the fact that Din still had more questions than answers about her, the important thing right now was to let her sleep.

Eventually, the group came across Cara Dune, an ex-shock trooper Din had met in a cantina earlier in the day. After seeing Clara’s extensive injuries, he knew he’d need some help if he was going to help the village ahead. With a small payment and persuasion, she was on board.

When Cara hopped on the buggy and saw Clara though, her body stiffened.

“Oh Maker...” she murmured. “What have you gotten yourself into, girl?”

Din couldn’t help but be curious. “You know her?”

Cara let out a soft sigh and looked out into the night sky, her gaze distant.

“We run into each other every now and again... often times, I’ll buy her a meal. She’s running from someone, I think... but I don’t judge. Between you and me, she seems like she’s been abused.”

Din wanted to fill her in on Clara’s past; help her fill in the blanks about her situation. But Din knew better than anyone that your past is your business, and it was obvious that hers was a rough one that she kept close to her chest. So, he kept his mouth shut.

“Girl’s special though...” Cara continued. “Seen her keep off some pervs.. She’s quick on her feet and can hold her own in a fight. She shouldn’t be alive, but somehow...”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t be alive...” Din grumbled. “These guys left her bleeding out for who knows how long and when I patched her up, she was surprisingly alert and verbal, despite being in pain.”

“I don’t know much more than that...” Cara concluded. “All I know is that she was afraid of shacking up with me. Claimed I would get hurt and that she was better off on her own. She was very insistent on it.”

Din looked down at the sleeping woman, curled up at his side. He had used one of the farmer’s bedrolls to keep her sleeping somewhere half comfortable, however he could tell she was still cold, as she was not wearing much clothing wise and the chill of the forrest air was enough to make him cold beneath his armour. He peeled off his wool cape and draped it over her right up to her chin. When she let out a soft sigh in contentment, he knew he had made the right decision.

“She’s not going to have to worry about people coming after her and hurting her anymore.” Din murmured. “I’ll make sure of that.”


	2. Healing

The day that followed felt like a hazed blur to Clara, as she tended to go in and out of consciousness. As much as her body wanted her to fully go to sleep and rest, the pain of her injuries would pull her out of her sleepy state and back into the real world. However, she didn’t expect to wake up to a soft-voiced lady at her side. Or that she was on a cot… with blankets.

Maker knows how long it had been since she had a proper bed of her own. When she had been living at her old master’s palace, she had been forced to sleep on the cold dirt floor of the servant’s chambers. According to Jabba, “cots took up too much space” and that the slaves would have plenty of rest in the bed of their master should they find themselves lucky to be invited.

Her time on the run wasn’t much kinder to her either. She essentially camped outside as she went. On the lucky occasion that she had been able to find a job, (which was rare due to the stigma associated with her microchip, essentially letting anyone with a scanner know that she was uneducated, owned, and not worth payment.), she would upgrade her sleeping arrangement to a measly 2 blankets and a bedroll, however those luxuries were quickly taken away from her thanks to the pirates, along with any bit of money and food she had left.

In short, she was back to being not just homeless, but really homeless, without a thing to her name. But hey… somehow, she was still alive.

 _“You were lucky that you found her when you did.”_ The lady had a nice soothing lilt to her voice. It reminded her of her mother’s. _“If she had been out there any longer…”_

 _“Thanks to your two farmer friends out there, she had been bleeding out for a while… No wonder she’s so tired.”_ There was another voice now. It was just as soft as the lady’s, but it was laced with a modulated gruffness that was all too familiar.

_“Mandalorian… I know they’re not the brightest… but they were scared. It’s hard to know how anyone will act in times of peril”_

Wait. The Mandalorian had stayed with her?

_“Well, I can tell you from personal experience based off of their bedside manner that they have a lot of work ahead of them.”_

Well now.

There were metallic clicks on a wooden floor as he stormed out of the room, leaving the lady there to tend to Clara’s wounds. It was the slamming of the front door that caused Clara to stir for the first time. Much to her relief, she wasn’t in the damn buggy anymore. Though her vision was a bit blurred and hazy, she was able to make out a cozy wooden hut around her, a far cry from the scum she had been used to.

“Welcome back to the world.” The woman’s overall appearance was just as soft and as gentle as her voice, with kind brown eyes that reassured Clara she wasn’t in any immediate danger. She held a cup in hand full of fresh cool water, much to Clara’s delight. She had spent so much time alone in the forest that she was feeling dehydrated.

Clara took many greedy gulps of the water and sighed in relief. “Thank you for helping to bring me back.” Despite the drink, her voice was so hoarse. She suspected it was probably from the screaming and crying earlier.

“Lucky for me, most of the critical work was already done. Your metal friend out there could retire and become a healer if he wanted to.”

So, it was the Mandalorian. Clara tried to laugh, but quickly found out that it made her… everything ache, so she tried her best to suppress it as much as possible. “We just met, actually.” Clara said softly. The woman filled up the cup again and pressed it to Clara’s lips.

“I find that hard to believe. He hasn’t left your bedside since you all arrived. Surprising for a man with such an… intimidating way about him.” It was like this lady was reading Clara’s mind. Clara felt a familiar hot pain from her leg again and hisses. It’s not as bad as when the wound was initially made, but it was painful enough that it caused her more discomfort than she would have liked. “Can you rate your pain for me? On a scale from 1 to 10?” The lady, who was still nameless as far as Clara was concerned, stood and made her way towards a medkit.

“A solid 7…. Not as bad as earlier, but at the same time, I-“

“-you feel like you’ve been run over by an AT-AT walker. I get it.” Despite her looks, she had a wit and dark sense of humour to her that Clara respected. “I’ve got some pain meds for you that’ll help with that.” At this point, Clara could care less, as she was ready to close her eyes and drift off again that she was willing to be connected to an IV. She was fine with being stabbed as long as it meant she would be better in the long run. “My name is Omera, by the way.” The woman; or as she had introduced herself as, Omera, had a certain hum to her voice when she was in deep concentration, reminding her of Din from earlier before. “Figured we should be on a first name basis as we’ll get to know each other over the past while.”

Clara can start to feel the meds kick in, and oh - okay- that was exactly what she needed. Her mind felt like it was turning into cotton, absorbing the velvety sweetness of Omera’s voice as she spoke. (Velvety sweetness? What kind of painkillers were these?) Her breathing started to slow, and for whatever reason, the stiff cot beneath her began to feel like a marshmallowey treat she could sink into. Her wounds, which were still very raw, irritated, and freshly stitched, didn’t bother her at all anymore. Somehow, despite everything, Clara felt comfortable. It was odd really, not feeling the constant need to look over her shoulder for danger. To know someone… some people were looking after her. It was… nice.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a while…” the words just seemed to roll off of Clara’s tongue, the meds helping her to fully let go. “Maker, you’re like an angel. Thank you, Omera.”

There’s a switch in Omera’s expression, but like any good mother, she tries her best to mask it. There’s this look of sympathy and sadness on her face, upon the realization that this kindness from random strangers was probably the most kindness Clara had faced in a long time. But she keeps on smiling. “Get a bit more rest, save your strength.” Omera murmurs. “I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

Despite the fact she had already been sleeping for most of the day, Clara had found this conversation alone draining. With the help of the painkillers, she had the most peaceful, dreamless sleep she’d had in a long time.

~

Din was anxious for Omera to come out of the tent. The pessimist in him was still nervous that he had done something wrong when patching the young woman up… that somehow, he had hurt her back at the buggy. However, when she came out of the tent, Omera looked rather pleased.

“Clara is tired, but in stable condition. You made all the right calls, and thanks to you, she’s still alive.” Din wasn’t used to hearing that he had saved someone… The power in weight in such a sentence was overwhelming for him to wrap his mind around. Omera leaned against the doorframe and smiled gently in Din’s direction. “Just hooked her up on IV meds to help with the pain and discomfort, as well. When she sleeps, I want to make sure it’s uninterrupted, as her body’s been through a lot and she needs time to recuperate.”

Din nods to himself. “So, going forward, she’ll just need rest?”

“As long as she’s monitored and her dressings are changed, yes.” Omera answered. She paused for a moment, glancing at Clara’s sleeping form inside the barn. Her trembling and twitching in her sleep had gone down specifically, meaning the painkillers had helped to put her at ease. “I can see if one of my neighbors can offer you and your kid a place to sleep for the night if you wish to leave her be. I know you only just met…”

“ _No_.” Din comes up with his answer quicker than either of them had anticipated. “If… I-If it’s alright by you, we’ll stay in the barn with her. Less trouble for you, and that way, I can be there if she gets worse.”

He really hadn’t anticipated to be this… invested in this young woman’s condition. But there were aspects about her… her story, that were of interest to him. He was in awe of how someone with such a terrible past could be so small… so resilient… so gutsy. And Maker, did he ever have questions for her. Clearly, Omera hadn’t anticipated this answer from him either… he couldn’t say he really blamed her, because as always, he had made quite the intense introduction when he had arrived in Sorgen. Din had never really been all that good with people. Small talk wasn’t in his vocabulary. And when you add anyone unrightfully injured into the mix, he was bound to get… protective.

And yet, despite his attitude towards her in the barn, she still agreed with him. “Fair enough, Mandalorian. You both may stay with her… but if at any time, any of you would like different arrangements, feel free to ask.” She smiles at Din softly and walks away from the main door frame, towards her hutt in the village. “Hope you two have a good rest. I’ll be back to check on her in the morning.”

Once the coast was clear and Omera had left them for good, Din scooped up the kid in his arms and quietly made his way into the barn. A full 24 hours had passed since he had found Clara in the woods, and none of them had ended up getting as full nights sleep. Whenever Din would try, on the buggy ride on the way to the village, all he could hear were Clara’s cries and sobs, over and over again in his head. It can take a toll on a person to have to watch someone else go through pain like that, let alone feel that pain for yourself. He was glad she was finally starting to settle. To feel comfortable.

He tucked the kid into bed in a little wooden cradle Omera had provided, and almost immediately, the little greenie fell asleep as soon as the head hit the pillow. (Thank the Maker… he was just like any other kid and would sometimes kick up a fuss before bed… Din felt relieved that the Child felt as worn out as he was.)

~

Clara awoke bright and early the following morning to an oddly familiar warmth on her chest and a pair of shiny black eyes staring at her in wonder. It had caused her such a surprise that it took a moment for her to register who he was and to not gasp in fear or shock... She took in a sharp breath at first but sighed in relief as she was able to make out the kid’s familiar faerie like ears.

“Good... morning, Small One. At least I think it’s the morning.” Her voice, although sleepy, was slowly but surely getting stronger and back to normal. While it was still soft, it wasn’t as bad as the whispers that she could muster before. Clara was one step closer to feeling normal. “Why haven’t you and the Mandalorian gone back to your ship yet?” She asked as the kid snuggled up into her chest again, much like the night they had met. “He must have better things to do than watch over a womp rat like me, huh?”

“Womp Rat is his nickname. You must be able to come up with something better than that.” A Beskar-clad sillouette appeared in the doorway with what looked like a tray with bread and bone broth, a rare delicacy in Clara’s world.

Despite the pain in her wound on her collarbone from the stitches, the sight of him still being there warmed her heart. Clara smiled softly. “I’m surprised you’re still here, Din.”

He sat on a chair at her bedside and laid the tray on a small stool at her side. “I’m surprised you’re awake and that you remember my name. You went through a lot back there.” He answered. While is tone was on the serious side, as one would expect from a deadly bounty hunter, Clara could still hear the warmth somewhere under that helmet.

Clara holds the child closer to her chest at the thought of that night. “I was really scared that night. I was dying, and you kept me going when I thought I couldn’t hold on.” Despite the fear in her that was slowly creeping back up at the thought, she smiled at Din. “So yes. I do remember you.”

For a split second, Clara thought she could hear a small hitch in the Mandalorian’s sigh. Like his stoic low Bounty Hunter voice would give out at the sound of praise. But he masked it well by clearing his throat. “You’ve been sleeping on and off for the past… well… day or so… which makes sense as you’ve lost a lot of blood.” He tilts his helmet curiously. “How are you feeling now?”

While Clara could try to ease his worries (which she was still shocked about. She wasn’t used to all of this attention from anyone, especially a Mandalorian who was being a mother hen for Maker knows what reason) she opted for a more realistic answer: “Still in a lot of pain and pretty weak… but, I could be dead in a ditch right now, so things could be worse.” The kid coos and holds her hand with his little one, just as some sad thoughts of the past come creeping in. “Nothing I’m not already used to.”

Suddenly, there’s a voice; a whisper of a voice in her head, as innocent as a Child’s, and it says two words.

 _“We’re here.”_ After that, the room is silent. Clara’s eyes flicker around in panic, trying to find the source of the voice, when the same warmth from before blossoms her in her heart and the kid squeezes her hand. Could it be, that he has gifts like hers? Like her Mother’s? She hadn’t heard a voice in her head like that since her mother had been alive. The concept of there being another Force user in her world delighted her and scared her all at the same time.

Before she could connect any more dots, Din spoke up and broke the silence, much to her surprise. “You don’t have to be in pain though. Not if it can be helped.”

Din, just like the other night, helps Clara sit up, this time so she can eat for the first time in a day. The bread had a satisfyingly crunchy crust on top, with toasted seeds, and the inside was pillowy and soft. The little loaf was still a bit warm, meaning it had only just been baked that morning. It paired along nicely with the tea, which helped her warmup a bit more.

Clara tries to listen for the voice again but is only met with incoherent babbling sounds from the little one in her lap below. Weird.

“Here’s my question for you.” Clara continues. The T of Din’s visor looks down at her, and while she couldn’t see his eyes (she’s never wanted to know someone’s eye colour this badly before... it was KILLING her), it wasn’t hard to imagine his gaze would be intense. (Or was his visor there to cover up his vulnerable side underneath? Hmmmm...)

“This conversation is the most I have spoken to any being in a long time…” he grumbles.

“You started it by babying me and making sure I wasn’t dying. Maker, Din I just-“

Clara hears a growl(?) like sound through the modulator, and immediately, she is reminded that despite the fact that he’s been acting like silvery marshmallow around her, Din is actually kind of a killer.

“Why are you still here?” she blurts out. She lets the question and the weight of it all linger in the air before she continues. “’Don’t you have a quarry to chase after, or something?”

“If my presence is too much for your to bear, we can leave.” Din scoffs. His voice was so monotone and deadpan that Clara couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he was serious, maybe even offended at that statement.

“No no no! T-That’s not what I meant.” She let out a soft sigh. She always jumped the gun, wording things in the most jarring and blunt way possible. “I just mean, you’re a Bounty Hunter. A good one, if what I hear is true. So why are you here, looking after me? We only just met...”

“The kid and I needed a secluded place to get away for a while, anyways.” he answered. “He’s got a pretty high price on his head, and when I found out a group of Imperials were the ones who wanted to use him, I stole him back. Neither them nor the Guild are overly thrilled at my stunt, so we have to stay on the down low for now:” Din pauses for a moment to stroke the kid’s ear. “But forgetting all that, you put your own life in the way to help others. This is the least I can do while we’re here.”

Hearing the word Imperials made Clara freeze. “But that’s impossible...” she murmured. “The Empire was defeated years ago. The New Republic-“

“Clearly doesn’t see that there’s still danger lurking underneath.” Din finished. “I know... I wish it weren’t so.”

Clara gazes down at the Child in worry. “What do they want this innocent little kid for? What good is he to them?”

Before Din can answer, a little three fingered hand reached for the wound on Clara’s collar bone. “Small one...” she whispers. “What are you-“ The little green alien closes his eyes, and suddenly, Clara feels something. A familiar warmth in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time. When the kid let his hand go, Clara realized her wound on her chest had completely healed, with nothing but a little scar behind. The kid purred in satisfaction, and without warning, collapsed into a little sleepy bundle in her lap. Clara gasped in fright. “Oh Maker... kid, what did you do?!”

Din put two ungloved hands on her shoulders in reassurance. His voice softened as they watched the kid sleep. “It’s okay, cyare. He’s alright...” there was that gentle tone again. The contrast in Din’s different “voices” always threw her for a loop. “He tends to do that after he heals. He just has to sleep it off for a little while.”

Clara, who was still shaken up by the whole ordeal, stares at the kid with eyes as wide as saucers. “No wonder they’re after him… he’s a force user.”


	3. Remembering

In true Din Djarin fashion, this wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.

He wasn’t expecting the kid to show off his powers.

He also wasn’t expecting the raiders to have AT-AT walkers, a fact that he hadn’t disclosed to Clara yet.

He wasn’t planning on going into detail about who was after the kid and why.

But everything became justified when this… strange and wonderful woman put a name to this little green kid’s superpowers. Something that had continued to stump the Mandalorian on his journey thus far. Maybe there was a reason they were fated to meet.

“A force user? Don’t you mean a Sorcerer or a Magician or something?” Much to both his and Clara’s visible surprise, he raised his voice in shock. This was all so much to take in, even for him.

“Well, a trained force user is called a Jedi…” Clara started timidly. “But I’m assuming he’s just skimmed the surface of training considering the kid can’t say his ABC’S-“

Din had SO many questions, he didn’t even know where to begin. “You’re the first person I’ve come across who has had a clue about what he does.” He pauses, unsure of how to approach such… sensitive matters. “Are you… a Jedi, as you call them?”

There’s a look on Clara’s face, an distant glassy look filled with the kind of pain and uncertainty because there are gaps in one’s past that are hard to fill after tragedy and loss. “In short, no.”

Din was still struggling to grasp onto the lore. It was hard enough to keep a firm grasp on his own, sometimes. “So… you can be… force-sensitive, but not a Jedi?”

“Correct.” Clara answers. “To be a Jedi is to be a Master. I lost my connection to the force almost entirely, years ago… Not only am I not a master, but I had myself disconnected from it completely, until I met him…” The kid looks up at the two knowingly and as Clara touched his ear out of habit, a small smile appeared on her face. “I-I can sense his emotions right now… I can read him.” Her smile grows wider, and Din can’t help but notice a small gap between her front teeth. It was such a… sweet and tender sight that he was thankful she couldn’t see him hiding his grin beneath his helmet.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that little guy is thinking…” Din murmured.

For a moment, it looks like Clara looks like she could tear up. “Can’t read entire thoughts yet, just snippets of words… but just a moment ago, it was like he was reassuring me. He said we’re here.”

There is something about that that warms Din’s cold bounty hunter heart. Maybe it was the fact that those are the first words he’s ever known to come out of the kid. Or maybe it was the fact that he referred to the two of them as a package deal… or a clan of two who would be there to help her out. Either way, the fact that she could figure the Child out and know what he was thinking or feeling, even just a little bit, blew his mind.

“So… he is a force user…. Like you…” Din concluded. Clara nodded and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. “And the Imperials want to use him for said powers.”

“That would be my guess. Force users have many tricks up their sleeves, and untrained, that kid is powerful, but if he were to have a master, whether it be on the light side or dark, he could be unstoppable.”

Din would have found that hard to believe a couple of months ago when he had initially found the kid… But after their situation with the mudhorn, the healing he had done for both Din and Clara, and the telepathy? This was already a lot to handle, and it was becoming clearer to Din that there would still be more about the Child to discover. “This is going to sound strange, but it’s nice to know that he’s not alone…” Din said softly.

The kid, who still seemed to be listening to their exchange, gave Clara’s torso a little hug. “I was going to say the same thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone like me.”

The room fell silent as the two watched the Child hug his new friend. Din was quick to notice that he took to Clara right away, but this connection added a whole new layer to their relationship all together. What would happen when they would have to part ways, when she was healed? It would break the kid’s heart. And yeah… maybe his own too.

~

Over the next couple of days, Omera and a couple of the village healers would try to help Clara get back into good health. They kept her and Din in the same area in the barn for lodging, as per his request, to make sure he would be there if she needed anything or if she was in any pain during the night. In the mornings, he would leave the barn with the child to get the kid and her some breakfast while the healers would get her wounds redressed in clean bandages. Once the first couple of days passed and Clara slowly but surely started to get some strength back, Omera was determined to get her a proper cleaning and some new clothes.

“You’ve all done enough for me already by helping me heal...” Clara begged her. “Please, I can’t accept any of this.”

“You sacrificed your own life to help my people.” Omera reassured her gently. “Helping you get back on your feet is the least we can do. As long as you’re in Sorgan, you will always have a home here with us.”

There’s that word again... home. Clara can’t remember the last time she felt like she was truly home. Sorgan, just outside of this village alone, was dangerous and hostile and unkind to lonely travellers. Everyone in this village was showing her more kindness than she had ever faced on this whole planet. And yeah, in a perfect world, she’d love to settle in this little lush green paradise. But she also knew she was a walking target; a tracking beacon hot spot. Staying this close in the village would put them all in danger.

So, no. Sorgan wouldn’t become her real home. Not anytime soon. But it was nice to know she had a community in her corner.

The next thing she knew, Omera whisked her away from the village to a secluded watering hole and a makeshift bathhouse. She had tried to convince Din to stop Omera from kidnapping her, but frankly, he was so happy to finally see her up on her feet that he didn’t give in, no matter how much she begged. One of the few things she had missed about living in Jabba’s palace was their facilities, like freshers and products like soap and makeup. Jabba had been insistent that every performer look their best, as they were representing him and his services. That all changed once she escaped. Freshers were considered a luxury, along with hot water, and obviously, being on the run with no ship or place to call her own meant she never looked the way she had really wanted to, as well as not being able to shower as much as she’d like. For Clara, having a freshwater creek to bathe alone was considered a treat.

After bathing her body in the creek (which was much needed after being on the run and then chased down. All the dried blood and grime were now things of the past.), Omera led Clara into the bath house. It was a quiet little cottage, dimly lit by lanterns. Much to Clara’s surprise, there was a seperate tub steaming with hot clean water waiting for her. Clara turned to Omera, puzzled.

“But I already bathed in the creek...”

Omera chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Here on Sorgen, we have a special tradition that whenever a special guest arrives, we wash their hair and braid it, as per their consent or if they are able. It’s a form of connection that can bring three strands, as well as different kinds of people together to make a collective whole. I could even cut it a bit if you so wish”

To be truthful, Clara couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything drastic to her hair. For years now, she had kept it so long that her hair was nearly halfway down her back. On the run, she would messily tie it up out of the way, as it would be easier to manage. At Jabba’s, they usually went with tight ornate styles that would last for days on end to suite the performer’s intense schedules. All in all, she found it to be curly, unruly, and restricting, and she had had enough of it.

“I could use a change…” Clara said softly. “This is the old me… A lot has happened since Tattooine, and thanks to you all, I can finally get my new life started.”

Omera was true to her word, and after washing her hair with the finest oils and soaps they had, she cut so much of Clara’s hair off that it fell just a bit below her shoulder. A weight had been lifted, quite literally. It was just the kind of change Clara had been looking for. This was the haircut of a woman who didn’t belong to anyone. T

he two were quiet as the haircut took place, however as Omera started making small braided buns at the top of Clara’s head, the topic fell to Clara’s future. “The Mandalorian was telling me that you’re eager to help us fight back from the raiders.” Omera noted.

“Well, considering what they did to me and what they stole from me, I am eager for a rematch.” Clara grumbled. “Somehow, I’m more frustrated they took my most prized procession over trying to murder me in cold blood.”

She let out a soft hum as Omera worked on the buns. The whole scenario had brought her back to her childhood, in which her mother would give her braids and talk of the Jedi lore. It was all so similar and cozy that she tried her best not to tear up in front of Omera.

“What is it that they stole from you?” she asked.

Clara wasn’t one to talk about the force or her gifts to strangers. But she felt like Omera was different; a kind and innocent soul who simply wanted to listen. “My mother’s lightsaber. She had put it together herself piece by piece and passed it down to me before she passed."

~

_Both Clara and her mother had been dreading this day for a while, now, for many different reasons. The day that was unstoppable, no matter how much control of the force one may have or how much power one could hold._

_Kryi had been sick for quite some time now. It was slowly eating away at her bit by bit. For the first few months of her battle, she hid it well with that classic mask that mothers wear so their children don’t worry. However, Clara could tell as they worked on their ranch together that she was getting increasingly weaker as time passed by. She went from doing all the chores on their farm with ease to struggling to find the strength to get out of bed within a matter of months._

_And now, here was Kyri, a Grey Jedi Master, who couldn’t feel any more powerless as her little girl watched her fade away. “My moon… my stars… my shining Clara. I need you to promise me something.”_

_Clara didn’t think she would be curled up in bed next to her mother as she died, however there was a part of her that didn’t want her to be alone as she’d fade away. Her mother had been there when she had entered the world, and Clara was determined to be there for when she’d eventually leave her behind. She felt like a child, hoping that her mother could help chase her nightmares away if she stayed in bed with her just a little bit longer. But this was it. Their situation itself was a nightmare that she couldn’t escape._

_“Anything, Mama… anything.” Clara murmured. She hugged her tightly and buried her face in her neck as Kyri’s body shuddered with every aching breath._

_“You are my pride and joy… You carry so much bravery, kindness, power, and more.” Her breath begins to hitch. “I- I’m so proud of who you are now and who you will become…”_

_“I couldn’t feel anymore lost though, Mama… there’s still so much for you to teach me, and I don’t even know what will become of me. Who I will be, what path I’ll choose?”_

_“Clara, you know better than anyone that I firmly believe in the power of choice.” She hands her an ornate box, encrusted with shattered kyber crystals on the lid. “The world isn’t black or white; darkness or light… You can form attachments, give into the path not tread, and go against the grain. Promise me that you’ll trust your judgement and your heart, my love… And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”_

_Clara opens the box and stares in wonder as her mother’s beloved copper light saber shines in the lamp light. If she was going to be on her own, she had to be brave and choose her own path, just as Mama had when she left the Jedi Order with Ahsoka Tano all those years ago. “I promise.”_

_Kyri, with the last bit of strength she has left, gently caresses her daughter’s cheek._

~

There was a silence in the hut at the mentioning of her mother. Omera’s hands froze. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” There’s a tightness in her voice, a kind of sadness that meant that she understood. “Trust me when I say that I know how you feel…”

Clara shrugged softly and kept her gaze fixed on her lap. “She left me quite the legacy to uphold. And if I want to help bring peace to the galaxy in my own way and finally continue my training in the force, I must get my light saber back.”

“Now that we finally have some help against those raiders, I think we’ll be able to get it back.” Omera reassured. After a moment or two gather her bearings, she stood back and admired Clara’s final look and gave her an encouraging smile. “You are a vision. Wait till the Mandalorian sees you.”

The implications behind that comment were so ridiculous that Clara snorted with laughter. Her dynamic with the Mandalorian was a whole other conversation all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is the story so far? Feel free to drop a comment, as anything would be greatly appreciated :) Happy reading!


	4. Trust

For a long while now, Din Djarin had been alone. Being a Bounty Hunter is a dangerous life, and you have to be… well… not a useless idiot to be able to survive through such a profession. For the longest while, he preferred to be alone on the Razor Crest, not even bothering to think of the possibility of having a crewmate. 

But then the kid came along… with those big black eyes and pointed ears. Seeing the kid there in its cradle all alone and without a home, just as he was as a Foundling long ago… it really got to him. He had never felt this way about another being before.

Until he met Clara.

The night he found her always plays over in his head, over and over again. He had been so angry at the two farmers for just leaving her there; bleeding, sobbing, curled up in the back of that buggy. How could they have been so heartless? So cruel? They had the decency to pick her up at least, but still.

It was just like the Kid, and that scared the shit out of him.

He remembered standing over her and the fear that was in her eyes at the sight of him. She really thought he had been there to kill her. And then he had knelt down at her level, cradled her cheek in his hand, and told her everything was going to be okay. And despite all she had been through, she trusted him to stitch her back up again and let him stay close to her as she fell asleep later that night. 

That really scared him, because despite the fact that he usually (kind of) hates people of all kinds, he wanted to be there at her side. He wanted to be there to make sure she’d get the best care. He wanted to get her breakfast…? 

What was Clara doing to him? And most importantly, was this a sign that he was finally ready to have a crewmate? The thought had crossed his mind one too many times. If this girl was a… wizard or magician in training or whatever, maybe she’d be useful to help keep the kid under control or teach him a few tricks she may know. Or at the very least, care for kid as much as he does, if not better. 

He’d definitely catch a lot more quarries if he didn’t have to worry about the kid blowing up the Razor Crest so much.

While Clara and Omera had been at the bathhouse all morning (which he still felt bad about… he had made her the sacrificial lamb, as he didn’t want to have another awkward conversation with Omera over how his mask would impede on some of Sorgen's traditions), he and Cara continued training the villagers to get ready for the return of the raiders. 

While Clara had slept a few days ago, Din and Cara Dune had decided to work together with the Villagers of Sorgen to help protect themselves against the raiders. Truth be told, the task had ended up being much more of a challenge than any of them had expected after the discovery that they had an AT-ST walker on their hands, however the more Din thought about the injuries those Raiders had caused to Clara, he knew they had to push forward. (Oh yeah… and for the village to be able to protect themselves, of course…)

They were on their second day of training thus far, and the new recruits were in surprisingly good shape. So much so that the villagers decided to throw a bonfire in honour of everything they had been doing for them before it would be time for the big battle the following day.

Din, however, wasn’t too thrilled at the idea. “They need to keep their focus on what is to come.” he argued as he and Cara were polishing their weapons outside of the hut. “We’re about to face a band of armed raiders tomorrow…”

“Gotta give them credit where credit is due, they’re doing well.” Cara said with a shrug. “And while the battle is obviously important, they also need time to relax and recharge before. You know… see their loved ones. We don’t know how it’s going to turn out… so, maybe they’re considering it a last hurrah.”

“That’s a bit dark…” Din grumbled. He held is blaster up to the setting sun to make sure it was perfectly polished, then put it back its case for safe keeping. 

“Well, then if you want to be the optimist for once, by all means go ahead.” Cara chuckled to herself and had a swig of spotchka after finishing her last weapon. “But if you need me, I’ll be pre-gaming before the fire… If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, Mando.” 

Din sighed softly to himself (something he does much too often) and leaned against the doorframe, staring at the setting sun. The day was looming to a close… “Clara and Omera sure have been gone a while…” De hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but for whatever reason, he found it nice to have someone to respond back. Yes, Cara sometimes took things a too far and was a bit out-there, but for whatever reason, he just felt like him and her were on the same wavelength. That he could talk to her about what was on his mind, even if they didn’t always agree entirely. 

“I’d say they’ll be back soon. Something tells me they can fend for themselves in case it gets dark.” Cara gives Din a look that is genuinely curious yet teasing all at the same time. “For a stone cold Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, you do seem to care a whole lot…”

“I’m not stone cold. If I was, that little womp rat over there would be with some very bad people right about now.”

“I just mean… your bedside manner isn’t the greatest most of the time, except when you’re around the kid… or her.” She smirks in his direction, and despite the fact that she can’t see his face due to the helmet, he just knows that she knows that he’s being blushy and bashful right about now. “The way you carried her into camp bridal style was pretty romantic, Mando.”

Okay, Din took it all back. He was not enjoying this conversation anymore. “She was unconscious and close to dying, Dune… Kriff, did you expect me to drag her body in like she was a quarry?”

“All I’m saying is that… she’s a very pretty girl, and I’m… sure you’re a very handsome man.” Cara takes another swig of Spotchka. “Imagine the two of you, kicking Imp ass across the galaxy.”

Honestly, he had. Many times, but Din wasn’t going to come on out and admit that. “Look… you and I both know she’s been through a lot in the past. She’s still wounded right now, and frankly, I think she’s just lost...”

“No Mando… you found her. All the time that I’ve known her, she’s been afraid and always looking over her shoulder. She’s never accepted help before because she was scared that she wouldn’t live to see the next day.” Din continues to stare at that setting sun, because he knows that if he looks at Cara and the probable scowl on her face, he will crack. “But around you, she’s different. She feels safe and comfortable around you, and for the first time ever, she’s finally at a place in her life where she can get back up on her feet. I haven’t seen her this alive before, and you have a pretty big hand in it.”

In the distance, Din can see a pair emerging from the trees. Many villagers, including the Kid, come up to greet them, but from what Din can tell, Omera seems to be keeping the crowd from smothering them. 

Wait… Omera? Then that means that her and Clara have returned. Oh Maker…

Din turns to meet Dune’s hardened and bewildered stare. He speaks in his lower, more demanding tone of voice to get his message across. “Look… there is a lot on all of our plates right now, but if there is one thing I can assure you, it’s that when all is said and done, I will make sure Clara never has to be alone again. Whether that means she is welcomed into the community of Sorgen and taken in by Omera, or… if she becomes a crew mate with me on the Crest… That’s her decision to make.”

Cara, always one to try and get in the last word, opens her mouth to say something, but is interrupted by Omera, who was quickly approaching the tent. “Sorry to keep you both waiting for us.” She chirped. “But we had the most lovely afternoon.”

Din turns his visor to meet a pair of familiar green eyes. Somehow, whether it was because of the setting sun behind her or how relaxed she seemed, they looked brighter. Clara, who had always been a bit shorter than him, looked up to meet his visor with a grin. 

The first thing Din noticed was her hair, which had been chopped just below her shoulders. It still allowed her showcase her honey blonde curls, but her hair just looked smoother and healthier. Half of her hair was twisted and braided up into two small buns on the top of her head, which he had assumed was also Omera’s doing, as per tradition. She looked like a vision; like a fairy or something else other-worldly.

The fact that she was glowing, finally starting to look healthier and well-fed, and looked to be pain free at the very least for a moment made his heart genuinely happy. This was a far cry from the scared small women he had found covered in blood in the woods.

“Omera mentioned something about a fire this evening!” Clara said excitedly. “I think you all could all use a little break this evening before the big day tomorrow.”  
Din, who was still taken aback by Clara’s transformation, let Dune cut him off for once. “It’ll be the perfect time to show off your new haircut! You look amazing.”

A blush creeped up Clara’s cheeks and dusted her freckles with rose. She turns back to Din and rocks back and forth on her heels bashfully. “I’m sorry you had to see my in such rough condition the other night, Mando… Haven’t been met with such hospitality and generosity in a long time. Or a fresher with hot water.”

For the first time in what felt like… forever, Din smiled. And for whatever reason, there was a brief moment in which he wouldn’t mind if he broke his Creed just to let her see it. “Just glad to see you well and happy, Clara.” Somehow, someway, her grin got even wider. 

Dank Farrik…

~

Clara and Din had made the decision that the two would rest in the barn before the fire later that evening (Which Din made very clear he wasn’t the biggest fan of it)

“I said this to Cara and I’ll tell it to you: I think the fire is a stupid idea.”

With every conversation the two exchanged, Clara came to the conclusion that there were many sides to Din Djarin.

There was Scary Bounty Hunter Din Djarin, who freaking yelled at the two farmers for basically leaving her to bleed out in the back of the buggy. Scary Din had a voice that rumbled like thunder and dripped of venom. It was the Din she thought she would face when they met, but as always, he shocked and surprised her. 

Then, there was Mother Hen Din (of whom she was currently dealing with), a struggling single dad who not only had to look over a green-eyed alien child with force powers, but ALSO an injured ex-slave performer with force powers. Mother Hen Din was paranoid about… well, everything. Especially if it involves stupid decision leading to even stupider outcomes that would end up putting a mission in jeopardy or anyone in grave danger. Or just inconveniencing his very difficult line of work. Basically, this entailed him dropping sassy remarks 24/7.

Finally, there was Soft Din Djarin, Clara’s personal favourite, despite being the rarest. This Din took off his glove when he had held her hand, because he knew she was afraid needles. This Din brought her breakfast every morning and made sure the Kid would be really around her stitches when it would try to curl up in her lap. This was the Din that would stay up and keep watch for Raiders while she’d fall asleep, as she was scared that she wouldn’t be able to settle down if she tried on her own anymore. 

Overall, it was a gamble as to which Din you would face which day. But if there was one thing for certain, it was that she wasn’t sure she was ready to let them go after the battle was over and they would have to part ways.

“You’ve had a long day…” Din trailed off. “Maybe it would be best to rest this evening.”

“Din, I can assure you that I’m feeling much better.” 

“I agree. You look a lot better.” He reassured. For a split second, Clara’s stomach fluttered. Despite the fact that what he said was far from a compliment, the way he said it in that voice just hit her a certain way. “But if you’re going to keep an eye on the kid and be in charge of the troops here come tomorrow, you have to save your strength, at least a little.”

“Well I’m still going to the fire. The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve barely met anyone except for Omera. I must thank the villagers for their hospitality. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I still think partying before the battle even happens is a bad idea...” he grumbles. Though his helmet was fulling on Clara could almost hear him rolling his eyes at her comment. As he talked. Din was pouring three bowels of bone broth for the group of them, which definitely peaked Clara’s interest because wasn’t he not able to eat or drink anything around other people? 

“They’re thanking us. Don’t see why they’re thanking me considering I’ve been nothing but a burden to them but celebrating you guys is something I totally understand.”

Din handed Clara and the kid a cup of bone broth each before sitting on his cot that had been moved across from Clara’s. (For chatting purposes… and guarding her as she sleeps purposes…) “You almost died trying to keep them from attacking the village. They have a lot to be thankful to you for.” 

There’s silence between them for a moment, and then Clara’s eyes slowly fall to the bowl in Din’s hands. Immediately, she snaps her eyes shut. Din lets out a soft chuckle in surprise at her speed. “Cyar'ika… I’m just holding my broth to keep my hands warm. I’ll have it after, once the two of you head to the fire.”

There’s that word again: cyar’ika. Clara didn’t hear Din speak in another tongue very much, unless he was talking to or about her. Unless he was saying that word. She always felt like she was missing something… Was he calling her a mean or sassy name? She was determined to know.

“First of all… You’ve been calling me that for a while, and I still don’t know what it means.” Clara says grumpily. She is determined to keep her world enveloped in darkness and keeps her eyes closed. “Secondly, I want you to stop leaving the room or waiting til I’m done eating to… you know, eat yourself…” Din laughs louder now, which only makes Clara more discouraged. “As you can tell, I totally respect your Creed, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to be the one to break it… But I also don’t want you to eat alone anymore.” Clara smiles softly in his directions and takes a small sip with her eyes still closed, as if it were a challenge for him to do the same. “When was the last time you ate a meal with a group of people?”

There it was. The silence again, except the deadpan sound of slurping that comes from the kid at her side. Clearly, he had made a stance on where he stood, as a little voice whispered, “I’m closing my eyes too.” in Clara’s head. 

But then, she heard something she hadn’t before. The sound of a hissing helmet being removed. 

The fact that he had actually agreed made Clara shut her eyes even tighter and her heart leap in her chest. Din Djarin had taken off his helmet, and suddenly, she could feel his warm shaky breaths on her face and would not have to hear the crackling of the modulator. Or, so she thought.

“For the record, I’m not ready to fully take my helmet off, even if your eyes are closed… but I can slip it up to eat or drink if I trust the people around me enough to not let their gazes wander?” His voice was all too familiar yet completely different without the modulator. It was still low and rumbling, just as Clara always loved and remembered it, however without the crackling, the edges in it were smoothed out, leaving her with a sound reminiscent of the warmth of a fireside, the lull of a lullaby, or the softness of the rarest silk. 

In short, she never wanted him to pull that helmet down.

“Y-You don’t have to tell me twice.” Clara answered. She tried her best not to trip over her words like a voice-struck idiot. “And… for the record, you can always trust me to keep my eyes closed.”

Clara can hear a smile in his voice now, more than she ever could before. Not wearing the helmet meant that there was nowhere to hide. Somehow, Din was a little bit easier to read. “It means a lot…” he says softly. “There’s not that many people out there that I would trust.”

Clara fakes gasps and sips her bone broth. “Din… was that a compliment?” Din, clearly flustered, sips his broth in silence. Clara wonders if Din’s facial expressions underneath the helmet compensate for the stoic nature of the helmet himself. If he has big expressive eyes and fuller brows, or if he has the hardened intense kind of gaze that he usually imagines he would have.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I trust you too... You’ve already seen me at one of my worst times, so you might as well know a bit about the other ones” After downing the rest of her bowl, Clara stands, but stays close to the cot so she’d have somewhere to tip over in case her vision loss would cause her to lose balance. “I’m going to get ready for the fire tonight at Omera’s and send the Kid off for a sleepover with Winta.… It will give you a chance to have some time for yourself with the helmet off without the little one and I being there to drive you crazy.”

~

“It will give you a chance to have some time for yourself with the helmet off without the little one and I being there to drive you crazy.” 

Din didn’t want to be alone anymore.

“H-Hey Clara…” he stammered.

She turned back around to meet his gaze and he could see those crazy green eyes studying him. “Yeah?”  
Stay with me. You’re right. I haven’t eaten with anyone since I was as small as the Kid. Hell, no one has seen my face since I was a kid. No one really knows me or what I’ve been through, but I want you to. Because you know what it’s like to feel like you’re the only one of your clan left in the world. 

“Have fun… at the fire, I mean.” 

That was all you could come up with?

“Omera said there’d be dancing.” Clara answered. “Maybe after a few sips of spotchka, I’ll dance again.”

Din tilted his helmet in curiosity. “Again?”

There’s a look on Clara’s face, almost of pride. “The last time I danced, I was forced to for other people’s viewing pleasure. Now, I can dance for myself again.” Her smile of pride slowly shifts into a smirk. “I’ll even save a spot for you, if you’d like?” Was she serious? The connotations behind that comment left Din speechless. Her smile grew wider. “Well if you’re not going, then I’ll guess I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, grumpypants.”

Clara scooped up the kid, who giggled as she carried him at her hip, and she left the barn to head towards Omera’s hut, all before Din could get another word in edgewise.

The second the door shut behind her, Din took off his helmet in one ungraceful swish and sat back down on his cot, burying his face in his hands in frustration. 

What was going on with him?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always loved the idea of Din having a love interest... how fluffy and awkward he would be... I hope in the official Mandalorian show canon, it could be something they explore later down the line.
> 
> *sigh* a girl can dream... or write for now.


	5. The Dance

Clara had been all too familiar with parties thanks to the Hutt family. However, the more she had thought about it, the more that she realized that she had never really been to one as a guest before. This was entirely new territory. Not to mention that she (somehow) was one of the guests of honour, which she still couldn’t entirely wrap her head around.

Throughout the evening, she couldn’t help but hear the little Din on her shoulder telling her to not to over do it. And to be fair, even though he could be a grump sometimes, he did have a point… (Though she would never admit it to him. It wouldn’t be worth the satisfaction) While the Kid had healed the one of her collar bone, the bigger one on her leg had remained untouched. Part of her wanted him to do it the following day, as it meant he could probably snooze through the battle to come if they were lucky. There was still very much a risk for them to open if she weren’t careful.

So, as the evening went on, Clara took it easy, opting to mingle and talk to some of the locals. She wanted to take it all in the food, their traditions, their myths and legends, and customs. What was it about Sorgen and their village that truly made it a home? She listened to the music that they would play on stringed instruments, lutes, and drums, and would clap along to the tunes, both familiar and unfamiliar.

****

However, as the time creeped on and it was now fully dark outside, Clara wished to stand closer to the fire with Cara, who was true to her word and enjoying as much Spotchka as she could stomach. Much to her surprise, it appeared that Cara was definitely not a lightweight, as she was slamming one drink after another and was still able to walk in a straight line. It was enviable really, as Clara was only a bit and a bit down was already starting to feel like and floaty.

“Why am I taking joy in the fact that this is everything that Mando hates?” Dune has a thundering laugh, and as she gives Clara an amicable slap on the shoulder, she feels like she could tip over.

“He really isn’t much of a people person, is he?” Clara chuckled softly. “Then again, think about how many people must intrude on his privacy asking about his helmet and armour and everything…”

“Are you kidding? The man is a walking kyber crystal. He’s asking…. To be _asked_ about it.” Dune slurs. “He’s so shinyyyy…”

Okay, Clara took it all back. Dune was much more drunk than she had initially thought.

“Anyways, I’m not going to get in a debate about religion here.” Clara declared after taking another swig of her drink. “But it’s important to him _and_ it’s his business, so people ought to just leave it alone unless he talks about it or something.”

Dune didn’t look convinced. “SO, you mean to tell me that you’ve NEVER wondered what he looks like beneath that helmet? Underneath all of that beskar? What if he were actually a purple Mon Calamari? Or maybe he has some kind of scary looking burn on his face he keeps trying to conceal.”

Clara, never all that good at confrontations but better at defense, stares at the couples dancing a few feet away to distract herself. Because _of course_ she’s wondered what Din looks like. Hasn’t everyone? But she found it disrespectful to just openly talk about it. “Or, he’s a human being… just like the two of us.” She shifts her gaze back to Dune, who doesn’t look all that impressed with the seriousness that Clara injected into the conversation.

 _Maker, maybe Din’s rubbing off on me,_ Clara thought. _I seem to be respecting his Creed just as much as he does._

“Clara! You’ve been so popular that I haven’t seen you all night!” The two spun around to Omera, who had just danced with some of Villagers and was clearly a little out of breath as she jogged over to the pair of them.

 _Thank the Maker she’s here to change the subject_ , Clara thought. 

Clara flashes her new friend a grin. “I’ve been busy chatting while you’ve been busy dancing!”

“Well, they all adore you, I can assure you. You both and Mando have been a breath of fresh air to our village.” Omera, who has opted for water instead of Spotchka, leans against the table next to the trio. “You know, I’ve been starting to get the conversation going about you settling in here.”

Slowly but surely, Clara’s smile starts to fade. She knew that the topic of her living situation would come up at some point, btu she had been enjoying the blissful ignorance of healing here… just living instead of constantly hiding and looking over her shoulder waiting for the next attack

“Omera, as I’ve mentioned before, you’ve all done so much for me…” Clara said softly.

“Look, I knew you would get all humble and defensive, so let me just say this: We want you to have a community who supports you, and to finally have a firm foundation under your feet. You can literally help build your own hutt from scratch.”

What had made all of this so painful is that Omera couldn’t have been more right. However, there was still a lot about Clara that she didn’t know. Like how dangerous it was that she had been in the village this long to begin with. That just being at this fire could possibly put the whole camp in danger. That like her mother, she had a connection to the force.

“With all due respect Omera… I can’t be in one place for too long.” Maker… There really was no other way of wording it that wouldn’t give her identity away. She was sounding like an ungrateful bitch. “I’ve probably already overstayed my welcome, and after the battle tomorrow, I plan on continuing my travels.”

“And where are you going?” Cara interjected. “How will you even get there? You’ll get attacked all over again if you do it alone.”

Dune was really trying to hit her where it hurt. “I’ve made it through it all alive so far… We’ll see how the next leg of my journey goes.” Clara’s uncertain tone wasn’t doing her any favours. She knew if she didn’t want to get upset at the two of them and be pushed to the edge, she would have to get out of the conversation. “I-I’m… I’m going to find some more spotchka. Excuse me…”

The two tried to call after her, but Clara weaved her way through the crowd as fast as she could until she was out of sight enough that they wouldn’t noticed her trying to go back to the barn.

The hardest part about a life on the run is that the few good things that you have to grasp onto usually never last. Everything about Clara’s little life in the village: the people, the shelter, their kindness and hospitality, meeting new friends, and being saved by _Din_ were all temporary, and that killed her. Sometimes, if she closed her eyes and tried to shut out all the running and the shooting and cold, she could totally see herself creating a life for herself here. She could see herself carrying on the farming tradition like her family had before her. Find _the one_ and have younglings of her own.

But it was pointless to dream. Clara stopped dreaming long ago. It takes a lot of hurt to turn a dreamer into a pessimist, and the world just seemed to want to _break_ her.

“Clara…”

Clara looked up and tried fighting back tears as she was met with the silvery silhouette of Din Djarin. This man never ceased to surprise her. “All that talk and you’re actually came… What are you like…” she grumbled.

As usual, he had a comeback. “All that talk about dancing and you’re already heading back to the barn. Something clearly must be wrong then.”

Clara tried her best at smirking in Din’s direction, which only led to him crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. “You said it yourself, I should be careful with my stitches.” She lied. The last thing she wanted was for Din to see her like such a hot mess. “I’ve just been talking with people... getting to know them.”

Din scoffed. “Well that’s even more exhausting...” he grunted.

That could have been one of the most eloquent and real things to come out of the Mandalorian’s mouth, and the reality of it made Clara laugh. Hard. “Yeah... Drunk Cara and Omera were just starting to get on my nerves.”

“And Cara is already a big enough personality when she’s sober...” his helmet tilts in her direction. “I’m sorry I ever left you alone out here.”

This should be a joke, but the tone of his voice adds a kind of weight to it that resonates with Clara more than it probably should have. “Frankly, I’m just glad you’re here, at all.”

That seems to be a thing between them. He always seemed to be saving her ass. If she was being honest wither herself, she didn’t really mind it all that much, because yeah, she was capable of taking care of herself... but she had been doing it on her own for so long that it was nice to have someone to share the load.

“Well, you said it had been such a long time... I didn’t want you to dance alone.” He shows her a gloved hand, a bit stiffly and awkwardly, but still does it none the less. At that moment, Clara could feel her heart in her throat. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him.

“Mando... you really don’t have to...” Clara murmurs.

He shrugs and holds it out a bit further. “I don’t offer this to just anyone. If it will make you happy, then I want to.”

Clara stares at him as his Beskar shines in the fire and lanternlight. Dune was right: he did look like a kyber crystal. It was almost enough take Clara out of the moment.

Almost.

The two stare at each other in wonder for a moment, shocked that this would actually be happening. And then Clara takes his hand. And wow, she didn’t realize how monumental this all was... on the night she was shot, he had taken off his glove to hold her hand. So she could feel the warmth of his palm and see him for who he was: human. Clara had probably been the first person to see and touch that much of him in... she didn’t even want to know how long. And now here he was again, offering his hand and a dance.

For Din Djarin, this was huge, so there had to be a reason for his presense, right?

The two move a bit closer to the fire for warmth, but far enough away from the crowd that they their own little bubble of privacy. Slowly, Din pulls her in close, softly putting a hand on the small of Clara’s back while he gives her other hand a squeeze, letting her know he would take the lead.

The last time she had anyone this close to her was a time that she’d much rather forget... The hutts would make her dance for and with top crime bosses and rich cat-cats alike, all in the name of getting and receiving information; building trust. It wasn’t recently that she had been able to stomach the smell of spotchka under someone’s breath or not flinch at the random touch, whether accidental, intentional, or purposeful.

_Din is safe... he won’t touch you like that. Hell, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you or touch you like that..._

The band winds down after a joyful jig and transitions into a soft folk song, a flowy ballad with guitar strings and winds, a welcome breather for some of the other dancers after skipping and spinning for so long. Din and Clara simply sway, almost rocking back and forth to the tune.

“Thank you for being my partner.” Clara says softly. She’s so close to him that her breath was nearly fogging up his visor. “I knew this was the opposite of how you had wanted your night to go.”

“Don’t mention it.” While a bit awkward, there looks to be less tension in Din’s shoulders. In fact, he seemed to be more relaxed than he had been in a while. “I thought the beskar would be harder to dance in...” Din admitted. “But I don’t think it’s in the way too much.”

Clara was almost thankful for the beskar, because Din wouldn’t be able to feel how fast her heart was thudding. It was a delightful silver barrier.

“On the contrary, I think you’re doing great.” Clara giggled, looking up into his visor. For a moment, she thinks she can see the outline of a hooked nose, but maybe it was the light playing tricks on her.

There’s a low hum from Din’s modulator and the two just continue swaying as the music swells. For a moment, Clara almost tries laying her head on his chest plate, but she didn’t want Din to freak out. Just the concept of even having him in her arms was enough.

“Clara...” Din pulls her in just a little bit closer. “Can I ask you something?”

He was never this chatty, or spontaneous. He must be nervous. “Yeah... anything.” She murmurs.

“When we make it through this, where will you go?”

There was that question again. It hurt her enough for Omera to ask, but for Din too? This would break her heart. She wanted to lie... tell him she had the money to get off this planet and a Jedi Master who could finally help her finish her training and a family farm to go back to... But none of that was true. Clara had nothing.

“Truthfully? I don’t know...” Clara can feel her throat tighten up, but she tries her best not to cry in front of Din. “I’m still chipped with a bounty over my head. The fact that I’ve been here so long and that no one’s come after me is a miracle.” She looks down at his chest plate, trying her best to avoid his gaze. “Omera offered for me to live here... told me I could have a farm, like I did on my home planet. Everything I have ever wanted since the day I got kidnapped... but me living here would put everyone in danger.”

There’s silence for a moment, as if Din were trying to find the right words. Din squeezed her hand. “She asked me the same thing... told me I could raise the kid here and have a life of peace if I wanted.” The way he said the word ‘peace’ as if he had never heard it before or what it meant. “And truly, that’s all I want... and maybe someday I will, but the life I’ve carved out for myself and work just doesn’t make it possible.”

Clara never took Din as someone who wanted a tiny hutt of his own on Sorgen… having a wife and younglings of his own. But then she remembered the man who brought her breakfast every morning and who was surprisingly cautious about the Kid playing with Winta and the other younglings, and just like that, it all just came together. “I still think I’ll keep the Kid here for a while and let him have a normal life… maybe Omera could take care of him.” Din continued. “I just can’t settle down here. I raised so much hell a few planets back from here a little while, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it comes back to bite me.”

This hurt even more than Clara could’ve imagined, because she wouldn’t wish her pain on anyone. “I understand more than anyone…”

Din lets out a soft sigh and suddenly, their dancing stops and they stand there in the firelight in each other’s arms. “Come with me, then.”

Well that was unexpected. Clara feels like she could throw up a million butterflies. She was dumbstruck. “Din…” she whispers. “A-Are you mad? There’s no way I would want to intrude-“

“Just hear me out, Clara.” He says her name so directly; so _firmly_ with determination that it immediately shuts Clara up. “You’re microchipped, yes? If you were on your own and people found out you are technically still a slave, chances are they won’t give you any work and you’d be back at square one all over again.” He wasn’t wrong. “I happen to know someone who used to be a slave for the Empire… he could definitely help in getting it out.”

Was Din offering her _actual_ freedom? This sounded too good to be true. “That doesn’t account for the bounty over my head…” Clara’s voice almost comes out as a soft cry in disbelief.

“That’s where I come in… you can live on the Crest with me as my crewmate. I can give you protection and shelter, no problem. I’m in so much trouble with the Republic and the Guild that I’m in just as much danger as you are… we might as well watch each other’s backs.” Clara swears she could hear a smile in his voice. That same warmth she heard as he comforted her the night they met. “I’ll teach you the ins and outs of the ship, how to do simple repairs and how to take off and land it safely, I’d be more than happy to pay you in return.”

There was so much to unpack that Clara didn’t even know where to begin. This was unreal. “If you were to give me my freedom, I would be forever in debt to you… You wouldn’t have to pay me.” Clara stammered.

Din wasn’t having it. “No… If you’re going to work for me, you will get paid. You don’t belong to anyone anymore and you don’t owe anyone anything.” The song changes, and much to Clara’s surprise, Din leads them into another dance, still swaying slowly back and forth. “Because of the nature of my missions, it won’t be an easy life… you’ll be living in a ship and will hardly ever be on solid ground for a long period of time. But you’ll have a lifetime’s worth of adventures and countless stories to tell. You’ll see dozens of planets and more color and stars than you’ll ever imagine.”

It sounded amazing. And freeing. And terrifying. And uncertain. And dangerous.

“It… I-It almost sounds too good to be true.” Clara could feel a few tears roll down her cheeks and she could hear Din’s breath hitch through his helmet. He lets go of her hand and wipes the tears off her cheek with his gloved thumb. “I mean, I just met you. And here you are, putting it all out on the table. My freedom, a chance at earning a living, a home… the last time I was given an offer like that, I was manipulated and…”

“You had your whole life taken away from you.” Din finished; his voice scarily low. Clara nodded slowly and Din grabbed ahold of her hand again. “Look, I know I’m not the friendliest looking person… you haven’t even seen my face. And what I may do to those Raiders tomorrow for hurting you will probably scare you too.” A small smile creeps on Clara’s lips and she swears she can hear a low chuckle from him. “But I can assure you that I am on your side and I want to help you get a new life.”

Clara stares at this kind man; this _hero_. He wasn’t just offering her a new life. He was giving her a little part of his. It touched her in a place that she hadn’t been touched in a long time.

“I’m not saying no… but I’m not saying yes quite yet.” Clara answers. Din tilts his helmet confusingly and she separates the two of them from the dance. “You said it yourself, we have a battle to win tomorrow. I am still in a spotchka and painkiller induced mess and I need some time to think it over...”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest and lets out his characteristic exasperated sigh. But he doesn’t appear to be angry, much to her relief. “As you wish, Clara. But… my offer will always continue to stand, whatever your answer may be. I… I-I just don’t want you to be alone anymore.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he wasn’t going to give up easily… however Clara had a track record of disappointments throughout her life. Hopefully Mando wouldn’t become one of them.

~

After their dance, Din and Clara followed Omera back to her hutt to pick up the little one. There was a sense slight of tension between the three of them after the multitude of conversations that had taken place, however Clara tried to push it all aside so they could focus on the kids.

Winta had done a wonderful job babysitting, however much to Clara and Din’s disappointment, the Small One was still wide awake when they arrived. “Time for bed, you little womp rat.” Din grumbled sleepily as he scooped the kid up from a pile of building blocks. “Maybe you’ll get to see Winta tomorrow before the evening approaches.”

The kid, who had been a little bummed out that he had missed out on all the fun at the bonfire, was being fussy as Din tried to put him to bed at the farmhouse. Clara, who had been quiet and pensive in thought after her and Din’s dance, jumps at the sound of the soft cries from the little one. “Getting him to bed is always a challenge because he knows that I’m a pushover…” the Mandalorian grumbles, trying to rock him and calm him down. “I’m sorry to keep you up, _cyar’ika.”_

It is then that she notices that Din has his chest plate off, a rare sight for Clara, who never seen Din without a piece of his armor off before. He was wearing a long-sleeved thermal shirt and a neck guard to go just beneath his helmet. It was odd and endearing seeing the Mandalorian himself in a bit more of a… _muscley_ human state. The sight was enough to make heat rise up her cheeks and make her blush for the millionth time that evening. “You took off some of your beskar…” Clara blurted.

Din’s helmet turns her way, and although she can’t see if face, she just knows that Din is using every fiber of his being to hold himself together. “He kept trying to sneak in with me in my bunk on the crest… Turns out the little guy likes feeling someone else’s body heat.” Din’s voice is so soft that it just barely comes through the modulator. “However, it doesn’t seem to be working tonight. _Dank farrik_ …”

According to her mother, Clara had always had difficulty sleeping when she was growing up. _“The most wonderful children tend to be finicky babies”_ she would say. _“No matter what, a simple song always helped you settle.”_

Clara hops out the cot and comes to Din’s side as the kid keeps crying. “I might be able to help.”

~

Din wasn’t used to Clara being up and about at night. Because of her injuries, she would usually head to bed early since she would get tired so easily. This usually worked out great for Din, as it meant he could have a late-night snack depending on how much of the day he kept his helmet on. Lucky for him, Clara was usually a deep sleeper, as it meant if the kid were to make a fuss before bed, she wouldn’t have to witness his parenting struggles.

But not tonight.

Clara quietly came to Din’s side and scooped the Kid up in her arms. The Kid grabbed some of her nightgown in his tiny hands and let out a hiccupped cry as he buried his face in her neck. As she rocked him back and forth and shushed him, Clara gently pet his ears. “It’s okay, Small One… I’m sorry we left you alone. _Shhh_ …” She gave Din a small smile and gestures to his unpolished chest plate in the corner of the barn. “I’ve got this.” She reassured him. “By the time you have most of your beskar polished, he’ll be asleep for sure.”

He had to admire her confidence… The kid usually wouldn’t go down without a fight. “If you’re sure…” Din makes his way to the corner of the barn where he kept some spare rags and polish for his beskar. As he sat on the stool and started working on his chest plate, he could hear a soft singing voice near the pram.

_Baby mine, don’t you cry_

_Baby mine dry your eyes._

_Rest your head close to my heart_

_Never to part, baby of mine._

Immediately, Din froze. At soon as she started singing, the Child’s cries started to quiet down. She swayed back and forth with him cradled in her arms, almost as if she were dancing again.

_Little one when you play_

_Don't you mind what you say_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_

_Never a tear, baby of mine_

Her voice was unlike anything he had ever heard. It was sparkling and light, yet full of a kind of warmth and richness all at once. Nowhere in the outer rim of the galaxy could one find something more beautiful. Clara had him (and the kid) entranced.

_If they knew sweet little you_

_They'd end up loving you too_

_All those same people who scold you_

_What they'd give just for_

_The right to hold you_

Din didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that he was listening to her anymore. His chest plate laid there in his lap untouched as he leaned back, closed his eyes, and listened until the end of the song. Clara ever so slowly put the kid in the floating pram. His cries had disappeared, and Din could see his eyes fluttering shut.

_From your head to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

_But you're so precious to me_

_Cute as can be, baby of mine._

And then, like some freaky Jedi magic, there was silence. Clara manually closed the little doors to the pram so she wouldn’t wake him, and slowly backed away; turning to face Din. It couldn’t have been any more obvious that he had witnessed the whole thing, but frankly he didn’t care. His heart was so _full_ that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

She looked so sheepish that it was adorable. “My mother used to sing it to me…” she whispered. “Used to tell me that it was the only thing that could get me to shut up.”

Din couldn’t stop grinning. “Where the _kriff_ did that voice come from?”

She rolls her eyes at him, a level of sass he had not yet encountered with her yet, and heads back to bed, engulphed in a fur throw that Omera had given her as a gift. “Good night, Din… I’ll see you tomorrow when we kick some raider ass.”

Din shakes his head in disbelief, still shocked at Clara’s magic touch with the Kid, and actually gets back to polishing his beskar. _Maker…_ he thought. _What a woman._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby that Clara sings is 'Baby Mine' from the Disney film Dumbo, with music by Frank Churchill and words by Ned Washington.
> 
> This song means a lot to me, and I just had to include it.


	6. Battle

_“You useless piece of trash! You dare to spit in my face, but now you won’t even fight back.” A pair of grimey, callused hands clutched Clara by the shoulders so hard that she knew they would have to bruise and threw her halfway across the room in front of Jabba’s throne. She crumpled to the floor with a thud and let out a moan in pain as the Hutt family observed her mangled form. “Jabba, I thought you said she could do whatever I wanted.”_

_The monster himself, who’s snake like eyes were staring at her form hungrily, reassures his (possible business partner.) “Bu tam bo hanbanlot bai gee wogha du hoohah. Jeejee hatkocanh puna puna uen du doube.” **(The new ones tend to have fire in them. We will break her in soon.)**_

_It wasn’t that Clara didn’t want to fight back. Much to her horror, she couldn’t. She tried to remember what her mother had told her, about how she could still hone in the force, especially under pressure, but she was so scared and felt so hopeless that she couldn’t feel anything. It was like she was numb to the force all together._

_One of Jabba’s first tasks for her to kiss up to Kimari, an arms dealer who Clara was almost certain had been working with the Empire to juice up their weaponry when taking over planets. Needless to say, it didn’t end well, and what should have been her serving drinks and handing him food turned into him pulling on her chains and groped her in the ass. So of course, she spit in his face in return. No matter how much they would try to silence her and make her feel less-than-human, should would always try to stand up and fight, even if spitting in the face of her abuser was all she could muster anymore._

_Just as Clara tries to stand, a guard at Jabba’s side cracks a whip over her bare back. Clara sobs and collapses to the floor, not even daring to look her captor in the eye. “Stang shash shash cedd an bal as uba niuta.” **(Guards, bring her to her cell and do with her as you please.)**_ Jabba _barks. “Jee huujah shash oom-adee jeesh an mah kikyuna, wata.” **(I want her ready and compliant for me and my friend here when she returns,)**_

_~_

_Clara didn’t know how long she had been clawing at the back of neck, but no matter how much blood she drew, she couldn’t get that damn microchip out._

_“DANK FARRIK!” she screamed, throwing her light saber across her campsite angrily. The coppery metal of the handle clattered against a nearby rock, triggering more curses under her breath._

_Clara huffed angrily, letting in and out heavy and laboured breaths as another painful flash of electricity flowed through her body like a supercharged taser. That could mean one thing. She was being hunted, and unless she got rid of that chip, and fast, she would be sold back into slavery again for sure._

_As soon as she was able to keep her breathing even, she staggered over to her campfire, pouring the little water she had left over it to put it out. She wouldn’t have much time to get everything she owned together, but if she wanted to do so while keeping a low profile, she would have to do so in the dark._

_Clara got her mother’s leather satchel from the tent and started stuffing it with whatever was precious to her that she could fit: her mother’s old Jedi Text (she was trying to reconnect with her roots, okay? There were still some things she could take away from the ways of the Jedi), the very few credits she had left that could probably get her a meal or two, and of course, her saber, which had survived Clara’s temper tantrum without a scratch._

_It wasn’t much, but it would have to do until she could come back for her bed roll and-_

**_SMACK._ **

_Suddenly there was a loud roar, and just before Clara could pick up her saber, she was pinned to the ground by the ugliest and one the foulest smelling aliens she had ever come across. A group – no, an army, of raiders came out from their hiding spots in the trees and ran right for Clara’s camp._

_“Get off of me!” she snarled. She tried to best to kick and squirm out of his grip, but his claws were just too damn sharp on her wrists and his body weight on hers was enough that she could barely breathe._

_“Not until we see what you’re hiding, you little slu-“_

_Clara’s eyes snapped shut, and she was able to extend her palm open just enough to get her saber to fly into her grip and slash her captor’s arm at ignition. He let out a scream of pain and was able to release his grip just enough that should escape his grasp and be able to defend herself as the blaster shots started coming._

_Well. This was a new development._

_Her campsite, which had previously been enveloped in darkness was now glowing thanks to the magenta luminescence from her light saber. As she dodged blaster fire, she tried remembering Kyri’s words **. “Feel the force flow through you from one shoulder to the other, letting it stream into your saber hand.”**_

_However, just as quickly as her connection with the force came, it disappeared. “Kriff, why can’t you stay for more than 5 seconds?!” Clara hissed as a blast brisked against her collarbone. Before it could fully hit her, she was able to shakily deflect it with her saber. “There are too many of them...” There seemed to be a raider in every direction._

_Sure enough, she was beginning to be completely surrounded by at least 20 armed bandits_

_“There’s nowhere for you to run to now.” The Raider who had pinned her down growled. “Hit one of my men and we will shoot at you on command.”_

_~_

Clara bolted up from her sleep and let out a laboured gasp as she struggled to keep her breaths even. One hand immediately went to her neck. For a moment, she could still feel the weight of the collar and chain, but much to her relief, her neck was bare.

Her gaze flickered around to take in her surroundings… To her left was a sleeping Mandalorian on the cot next to hers, who’s Beskar-less form was covered with a blanket, with only his helmet remaining. (It still broke her heart and boggled her mind at the same time that he slept like that. It must’ve been extremely uncomfortable) In true Din fashion, he slept on his back like a corpse, which never failed to make her crack up. The Kid had snuck out of his cradle, and currently snuggled into Din’s side, letting out the softest snores she had ever heard.

Clara was safe. They were safe. All was good. “Thank the maker…” she murmured, smiling timidly to herself in embarrassment. “I’m still in the barn.”

After that dream, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night, so Clara wrapped herself in a blanket and crept out of the front door of the barn to relax on the porch. She sat crossed legged and tried to breath in through the nose and out through the mouth like when her mother had taught her to meditate and connect with the force all those years ago.

_“The world isn’t black and white; light or dark. You need both to be one with the force.”_

When she had been first starting out as a youngling, Clara was never one to be lured in by the dark. On her little farm on the mountain top with her mum, there was nothing but joy and new life and foggy mists rolling across flowery meadows. Sure, the dark trying to creep in through the cracks of her happy little life, but mother had always found a way to turn that darkness into something beautiful.

As they both grew older though, Clara grew into newer and harsher realities. It was then that Kyri had started to teach her the key... Of how to find love and justice and fairness in world plagued by war and pain. How, as a part of the next generation, she would be in charge of taking the two and juggle them in a delicate balance. She was that key.

Until tragedy struck all too quickly. Her mother had become sick; a walking death sentence. They couldn’t afford to keep their farm afloat as a result, and Clara and her mother had to live out of an inn while Clara buskered town to town for work. She’d sing at cantina after cantina, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

And then her mother’s life was taken away all too fast. And so was Clara’s in a way, within the first few days after her death, as soon as she wasn’t able to have her mother’s protection.

For a long time, she struggled to feel the force... feel her mother’s presence. Anything.

Until now, when she met the Mandalorian and the child. Even now, she could feel their peace as they slept. The Kid exuded a warmth and feeling of safety that made her heart so happy.

Din always varied at night. Lately, on Sorgen, he seemed a lot more at peace. No worries plauged his thoughts and there wasn’t a nagging feeling of fear over if Clara was in any pain. It was nice to hear, as normally, she felt like Din tended to have a little storm cloud over his head, when he was really wearing a mask of grumpiness to cover up his vulnerability.

Because despite the fact that Mando seemed like a man with a plan, most of the time, he just seemed to question everything. 

So, as Clara meditated on the two sides, she not only embraced the fear she felt from her past, but also the joy she had found in Din and the Kid and the wonderful weirdness that her life had become.

And yeah. As always, she thought of her mother too. “Be with me, Mama…” Clara whispered. “I know you’re there.” She closed her eyes and took in the sounds of night and nature around her. The croaking of the frogs, the creaking from the trees as they swayed back and forth in the wind, Din’s boots on the hardwood of the porch.

Wait. Din’s boots?

“You’re awake…” The Manadalorian grumbled. She didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow, it sounded like it was an octave lower from his sleepiness.

Clara whipped her head around, and sure enough, there was Din, leaning against the doorway to the barn lazily. Even though she couldn’t’ see his face, she could tell from the tone of his voice that he was not too thrilled to be up and at ‘em.

“Unfortunately.” She answered, trying to mimic his monotone-ness. “And it would seem you’re up as well?”

“… unfortunately.” Clara turned back around and closed her eyes again, trying to regain her focus. She was almost there… any moment now she would feel like familiar flooding in of power and warmth from her head to her toes. “Though unlike you, I actually have a reason.”

Apparently, nighttime brought out the sass in the Mandalorian even more than usual. “I am trying to… summon a force ghost.” Clara said bluntly. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk about her past with the Hutt family at the moment or mention the fact the force ghost was of her dead mother, as she had already told Din way too much about herself already. She chose to keep it brief.

Din almost _barked_ with laughter. “Well if you’re summoning ghosts, I should probably call you a witch instead of a magician…”

“Listen _Metal Man_ , you don’t see me here judging you for your beliefs. Why are you making fun of mine?” The Mandalorian dared to sit next to her and cross his legs cheekily, which only left her fuming. “Also, you still haven’t explained why you’re up.”

“Well, first of all, the Kid was hugging me in his sleep and was grabbing on for dear life. His little claws can hurt when you’re not wearing a beskar chest plate.” Din answered. The black t of his visor met her gaze. “Secondly, you’re lying to me.”

“What do you mean? Force ghosts are real! One day when I get my shit together, I’ll try and show you one-“

“Clara…” Din said slowly. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Clara uncrossed her legs and brought her knees to her chest. “I tried to keep quiet…’’ she murmured. “I guess it didn’t really work.”

Din shrugged. “No, you didn’t wake me up. The Kid did… but I watched it happen in really time.” There’s a pause between them now, and Clara can feel the weight that it carries. “You know… I get them too.”

This surprised her. “R-Really?”

He nodded slowly, looked out into the village in the distance. “All the time.”

There’s a stiffness in his shoulders now, and Clara just knows that the memory still lingers for him, even when he’s awake. She couldn’t help but wonder what could have happened to him to make him have dreams like hers. Something awful, for sure. “… do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Do _you_ want to talk about yours?” Clara stays silent, which for him speaks volumes. “Didn’t think so…” Clara tries again to sit crisscrossed and lets out a small sigh as she regains her composure.

“You don’t have to watch over me you know… stuff like this tends to be more complicated when I know someone’s watching.” She had meant to say it under her breath, but frankly, Din was being so dry and blunt with her that she felt that she had to match his energy.

Din scoffs and stands up again, groaning ever so slightly from a lack of stretching. “I’ll leave the spell conjuring to you then, Witch.” He shuffles his way back into the barn after giving her one salute. “Try to get a bit more sleep though, at the very least. You don’t want to set a bad example for the kid.”

It wasn’t until she knew he was gone for sure that she mumbles, “I’ll try, you nerfhearder.” Clara snaps her eyes shut and lets out one last big breath, yet again trying to focus on the dark and light. _“Be with me… Be with me…”_

_~_

The next day, Clara was tense. Like, very tense. It never really registered with her that she would be fighting the Raiders that nearly killed her until right about now, and it was completely throwing her off.

“Mando, can you watch over me in shooting practice just one more time?” Clara begged. “I want to make sure I’ll be ready for them.”

Din, who was now fully dressed in beskar from head to toe, tilted his helmet in confusion. “Clara, you’ve already fought them off once by yourself. I know you can handle this.’

Meanwhile, Cara Dune was growing impatient. “I think Mando and I both agree that you’re more than capable of watching over the Villagers and the younglings while _we deal with the rest.”_

Especially after witnessing her drunken behavior the night before, Clara didn’t have the patience for Dune’s snarkniness. “You’re making it seem like you gave me the short end of the stick here.” Clara grumbled, grabbing her blaster for her holster.

Cara looked at Din, as if she were hinting that she needed his support. “Well, in all honesty, we technically haven’t seen what she’s capable of yet. Also, she’s only just getting over major injuries…”

Now this hurt. For a long while now, before Din had even come into the picture, Cara Dune had been a friendly face to Clara. When she was homeless and on-the-run, Dune didn’t pretend that Clara didn’t exist. She had treated her just like a fellow human being in need. She had given her meals, and had tried to offer her shelter, but Clara had insisted that she stay on the run so she wouldn’t risk anyone getting hurt. Dune never reacted to this very well, as she believed most situations were black and white. Clara deciding not to stay on Sorgen long term must have been Dune’s breaking point, and Clara could tell she was beginning to lose her patience and give up on her.

In a way, Cara Dune had the right to be frustrated. Clara still didn’t’ feel comfortable enough to talk about her past as a slave for the Hutts, so Dune had very little to go off of as to why she was acting this way. But Clara was determined to keep her identity close to her chest. It was the most important thing she had, and if anyone untrustworthy were to get their hands on it again, her life would be over.

Din stepped closer to Clara’s side, his shoulder plate brushing against her and his fists clenched. “Dune, now would be a really to shut up…” Din’s tone was low and dark and… dangerous. If that comment had been sent Clara’s way, it would have scared the crap out of her.

“For the record, I _am_ capable of holding my own.” While Clara voice was trembling, it was undeniably firm. She still had a hard time speaking up for herself, as she had been used to getting beaten if she were to ever speak up. To this day, even with a little bit of self-work, she was still a bundle of nerves during confrontations. “Blasters just aren’t my weapon of choice. They still have my saber.” She looked over at Din, who nodded his helmet in sympathy. “But, even with my saber, they were able to beat the shit out of me. I just want to make sure I’m just as good with a blaster, just in case…”

There was a silence between them, and Clara immediately knew she had gotten her point across. Sure, her connection with the force still wasn’t the strongest yet, but she could feel their nervousness almost oozing out of them. Cara and Din had been worried at the possibility of facing the ATST for a while, but Clara felt like they had been so focused on the walker that they almost forgot about the army to go along with it.

“Dune, I’m going to stay with Clara for a bit.” Din drew his blaster from his holster and glanced over at Cara before putting a hand on the small of Clara’s back and slowly getting her out of Dune’s sight. “Once you double check the supplies and that all weapons are prepped, we’ll be ready to proceed by nightfall.”

Din, much to Clara’s relief, didn’t let her get a chance to see Dune’s defeated reaction, instead escorting her over to the makeshift shooting range he had created for the villagers to practice. “I’m sorry…” Clara could feel her voice hitch as she tried her best not to show how ashamed she was for getting so worked up. “I’ve been spoiled here… I haven’t been fearing for my life for once, which has been oddly refreshing. But then I had my dream last night, and was reminded of when I got attacked, and I feel like I am just spiraling…”

“Look, it’s _okay_ to be scared. You have every right to be, all things considered.” Din, who was clearly not used to having to comfort people, awkwardly gave Clara a somewhat-reassuring pat on the shoulder. “But you should never let fear ruin your life and keep you from doing things that are important to you.” His helmet moves in her direction, so their gazes meet as he hands her his beloved blaster. “Is this important to you?”

Clara feels the weight of his blaster in her hand. It’s compact, but still heavy enough that it was expensive for sure. She was shocked that he was even letting her use it. “Yes…”

“Well,” Din holds her hands from behind her and helped her aim at the shooting range. “I think you’re strong and skilled enough to be able to do it. I don’t let anyone waste my time if I think that they’re not cut out for the job.”

He wasn’t lying either. Clara could feel it, and she loved and hated that she could sense how he was feeling. It felt like such an invasion of his privacy, and even then, it still wasn’t much help because she never knew how to _deal_ with him and his behaviour sometimes. Clara felt like she had to tip toe around him. It also didn’t help that he was incredibly close to her… one step away from his beskar chest plate being pressed against her back. She had to hand it to him, though, at least he respected her boundaries. That didn’t stop her from blushing like crazy though. “The last time I faced the raiders, I was out-numbered, and they had me surrounded.” Clara aimed for the first target and the blaster shot landed in the top left corner. Good for a start, but it wasn’t a guaranteed kill out on the field.

“In a matter of days, things have been changing, and you know it. You said it yourself, you can feel your connection with the Force getting stronger.”

“It isn’t trustworthy though, Din…” Clara fires a second shot, this time closer to the center, but _still_ not quite. “What happens if I get out there, my saber lit in front of a band of those raiders, and I suddenly can’t perform, like last time? I’ll just put the team in danger…”

Din stands back with his hands on his hips determinedly. “This time will be different whether you’re able to connect with the force or not.”

She shifts her glance for a moment before firing a third shot. “And why is that?”

“Because you’ll have us.” Din lets out a triumphant laugh and jogs over to the target. She had hit it right in the middle. “A rag tag team of warriors who are just as scared, but even more determined to finally bring peace to this village. That is what you want, right?”

Clara smiles softly at her victory. “More than anything.”

The Mandalorian saunters back over to her and take the blaster gently out of her hands and puts it back in its holster. “Trust in that, if not yourself. As long as the mission gets carried out, who cares how.”

Clara never really thought of Din as a team player. He seemed like such a one-man-wolf-pack. But clearly, things change. People change. Or, ATST’s get involved…

~

Later that evening, the plan was finally put into motion.

Before he and Dune left for their journey to the Raider’s camp, Din pulled Clara into the doorway of the barn as she was attempting to cuddle the kid into sling at her hip. “The sun’s about to set, and we’ll be leaving soon…” he said softly. “When we return, we’ll be coming in hot.”

“We’ll be ready.” Clara held a blaster in hand and looked over at their troops, making their way to their barricades and trenches. “So, my main course of action is to make sure to kids stay sheltered, and to ensure that we are complete hidden and not seen, while still armed at the ready.”

“That’s correct. These folks are still pretty peaceful by nature and have never been through a situation like this before. I need you to be my eyes and ears and keep them in line. The stronger our line of defense, the better.” There’s a slow pause, and Clara knows exactly what’s coming next. “And… _please_ keep a watchful eye on the Kid. Make sure he stays in Winta’s arms at all times. The last thing I need is for that little Womp Rat to go Rogue and run off or get snatched by a Raider.”

Clara couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at the nickname, but based off of Din’s silent deadpan like response, he was not joking one bit. “Small One’s not going anywhere, I can promise you that. I’m going to station myself near the kids just to be extra sure.”

Din nods to himself repeatedly, clearly trying to convince his mother hen self that the little green force user would make it out of this okay. “And my task?”

“Amongst many other things, please get my leather satchel back… or at the very least, the light saber that’s supposed to be inside. Not only does it mean the world to me, but that thing is priceless and will be a major asset against that ATST if I can get my hands on it. “

“You bet… anything of yours other than that saber is a bonus.” There’s a crackle in Din’s modulator, as if his breathing hitched in thought. “Are… are you going to be okay here? I know this was a lot to ask of you, after… _everything_ you just went through with the raiders.”

Din was right. This was all still very fresh for her. She had a lot to be angry and scared of. But now, after remembering Din’s words earlier, she was now filled with something stronger. _“Trust in that fight for peace, if not yourself. As long as the mission gets carried out, who cares how.”_

“I’ve been talking so much these past few days about getting revenge on them for nearly killing me…” Clara murmured. “But after much thought, I realized that just isn’t the Jedi way. This is about justice for people who have been hurt for much longer than I was. About using my gifts to help people who don’t have as many tools to help themselves. Yeah… I’m furious at what they did to me and scared that they could do it again. But you’re right in that it can’t consume me. Not if we want to end this fight with peace.” For a moment, there’s silence, and briefly, despite the fact that she could feel Din’s intense gaze on her, she _wanted_ to see him. To memorize his features in case she would never see him again. “And what about you?”

~

Din wasn’t used to people wondering… _anything_ about his well-being.

“There’s nothing to worry about. I do shit like this all the time.” He had really meant for that to be reassuring, but Clara didn’t seem to be one for… his lifestyle.

“Just because you throw yourself into danger all the time doesn’t make it any less dangerous for you.” She argues. Her nose I scrunched up in disapproval in a way that amuses him. “I worry about you.

“Well,” Din snorts. “you’re wasting your time.”

‘I know we just met but- “

“I can _assure_ you that- “

 _“I want to get to know you more, Djarin.”_ And there it was again. That quiet urgency in her voice that made him stand up a bit straighter. That reminded him that despite her small stature, Clara had a presence and command over him that was alarming. Electrifying. Interesting. That couldn’t be ignored. “Don’t do anything stupid that will get in the way of that.”

Sure, one could say that Din valued his own life. When it came to the nature of his work, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. And yes, he had been well acquainted with death, not just through the people close to him and the bounties he had encountered in his life, but through living a life during a time of war and uncertainty. At such a time, death is hard to ignore.

Based on these and many more factors, Din Djarin came to the conclusion that whenever the day would come that he would die, it would probably go one (at least) of three ways.

  1. He would die to protect his people.
  2. He would die on the job, looking for and/or fighting a bounty
  3. He would die alone.



Was he _okay_ with those options? He thought he was. His people and _The Way_ mean everything to him, he was more than familiar with the risks and dangers behind hid job. And then there was the last one… that one, despite his hesitant acceptance of it, was still a lot to unpack. But then he met them: Clara and that damn Kid. They came into his life one after the other and turned his world upside down in two same but also very different ways.

Din leaned against the doorframe and just took Clara in, and the longer he admired that honey blonde hair and those wide expressive green eyes, the more he realized he didn’t want to stop gazing… he didn’t want to stop learning more about her. He didn’t want to let go of his _attachments._ He wasn’t ready to let her, _or the kid_ go, and Maker knows he hadn’t let himself feel this way; _care_ this much in such a long time. Since the days his parents were still around. Din was not only getting attached but _invested_.

It was all just beginning.

“I promise I’ll come back.” Din answers. “And when I make a promise, I never break it.”

The two gaze at each other for a moment, as if there wasn’t a village preparing for their equivalent of war around them. They could have stayed there like that, stuck in the trance of each other’s company. That is, if it weren’t for Cara Dune tapping her foot impatiently at the bottom of the porch stairs. “Mando” she calls. Din straightens up at the sound of his call-name, stepping ever so slightly towards Clara as she cradles the child closer. “It’s time…”

“Go.” Clara whispers. “I’ll have them armed and ready by the time you two are back.”

And maybe it was the harden look in her eye of a fighter; a Jedi Paddiwan wanting to seek justice, or maybe it was the motherly way in which she was holding the Kid close…. as if it were her own. But at that moment, Clara looked like a survivor who had seen some shit who was ready to fight for these people.

She had never stopped being brave. If anything, she was even braver now.

~

So far, everything seemed to be going to plan at the village. Din and Omera had whipped the villagers into shape, beautifully. All Clara had to do was put her people-skills to use.

Her and Omera led the charge, lining up soldiers behind the barricades based off their weapon of choice and what would be the most effective against the enemy at which distance. It was clear that everyone, like her, was getting antsy as they waited for developments or sounds from the walker in the treeline

Clara, who was armed and ready with one of Din’s blasters, turned to face the anxious gazes of the soldiers; the friends around her.

“Alright, everyone!” Clara shouts. “As soon as that AS-ST comes our way, we need to be ready.” She can feel multiple pairs of eyes on her, including the town’s children, who were huddling together at her feet. As promised to Din, the Small One was safe in Winta’s arms, who was thrilled at the idea of being a big sister to him for the night. “I know that this is newer territory for a lot of you… Believe me, if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be fighting at all. However, I’m a firm believer in justice and doing what’s right.”

As the Kid giggles encouragingly from below, Omera puts a reassuring hand on Clara’s shoulder. She smiles.

“You all are lucky enough to have such a wonderful home here on Sorgan… to a have a safe and happy life here. Now, there are people who are trying to take away that happiness. Now is the time to stand up and fight for your home. For your freedom!”

The villagers around her cheered, not just for her, but in the name of their freedom. It made her heart swell. The sounds of those cheers echoed through the tree-line, refusing to not be heard.

~

Din couldn’t lie… they were getting their asses handed to them. Just like what happened when Clara had been ambushed, Din and Cara had been outnumbered. They would have been outgunned and outmatched if it hadn’t been for Din’s beskar and Cara’s swing of a punch.

As a Raider _threw_ Din at a wall (the deafening ping of the beskar helmet getting hit rang in his ears), he was almost ready to throw in the towel, when he saw what the thief was wearing:

Clara’s satchel.

Fueled with anger at the thought of this ginormous creature shooting her, Din viciously kicked the Raider in the shins, instantly making it collapse at his feet. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, he shot the raider in the shin, made sure he could hear it scream, and took back the bag in one foul swoop.

_~_

“Do you know when the Mandalorian will return?”

That was the only question Clara had been asking in the last half an hour, and it was driving her crazy. A big part of her wanted to snap, “ _I’d personally love to know, myself.”,_ but she knew sarcasm wasn’t going to bring Din and Cara back.

Every now and again, the troops would hear an explosion or blasterfire in the distance. Every sound made Clara flinch, but she made sure that her hands never left her blaster. If time on the run had taught her anything, it was to never lose your guard. She had only made that mistake recently against these very raiders, and she was determined to never let that happen again.

“That must be them, little ones. That means that Mr Mandalorian and Miss Dune should be back any time now.” The children were starting to shake out of fear and were getting antsy, so Omera was doing her best to try and console them. Little Winta continued to cradle the Child in her arms, trying to tell him stories to distract him from the fact that his father still hadn’t returned. Omera, always the selfless mother, was clearly trying to put on a brave face, however Clara could see that her calm façade was about to crack any moment.

“I don’t have the heart to tell them that I’m worried too…” Clara murmured to Omera below. “Din made me a promise, but I can’t tell if he was pulling it out of his ass or not.”

The amount of blastershots going off in the distance was increasing so much that they caused the tree line to glow blood red further back. Clara shivered.

“Your Mandalorian is a very capable man who clearly doesn’t give up easily.” There were _so many implications_ to that wording that it made Clara give her a frown of disapproval. ( _“Your Mandalorian”? Get your priorities straight here.)_

“I know...” Clara mumbles. Her grip on her blaster tightens. “I just hope that determination doesn’t end up getting him killed.”

Suddenly, a fiery explosion occurs in the distance. The blaster fire from afar stops, just as quickly as it had started. All of the villagers immediately quiet down and freeze in terror at the sight.

Clara’s breath hitches in her throat. That could only mean one thing. Din and Cara had blown up the Raider’s Base. But were they taken along with it?

“TROOPS.” Despite the loudness of her shout, her voice quivered in nervousness. “TO YOUR POSITIONS!”

~

Din barely had any time to catch his breath as he recovered from the base explosion. In a moment of worry, he checked to make sure Clara’s satchel was at his side with her belongings. Much to his relief he (and the satchel) and Cara had made it out of their camp unscathed.

Cara struggled to get soot off her face from the fire. “I- I… I hope the plan worked.”

Din opened his mouth to say something along the lines of _‘I don’t know… I don’t have a good feeling about this.’_ , when suddenly, a mechanic whir of robotic machinery could be heard from amongst the trees.

A pair of glowing red eyes appeared as a massive AT-ST Walker _towered_ before them. The two scrambled to get back up on their feet. For the first time, in a while, Din _panicked_. Sure, his suit was made of Beskar, but that wouldn’t stop the walker from flattening him like a pancake.

“G-Go… GO!” Din yelled. He grabbed Cara by the arm and broke out into a sprint, trying to outrun the walker. The red eyes of the AT-ST helped to light their way back out of the forest, the only convenience to this whole mess.

As they ran, they dodged blaster fire from the machine, causing fires and explosions to surround them. The heat from it all was so intense that Din could feel the beskar heat up over his thermal layers. His lungs burned, half out of panic from the run and half from the smoke around him.

Din could only name a few times in his job that he legitimately feared for his life. He just never imagined one of them would be on a washed up quiet little planet like Sorgan. So when Cara screamed “There’s the village straight ahead! We’re almost there!”, Din could have cried. (Almost… it had been a long few days, but he was trying to keep himself together in one piece)

When he arrived at the barricade, he was relieved to see Clara, despite the fact that she looked worried sick (and a little irritated with him for taking so long). But he was proud of her, seeing her there on the front lines. She had her blaster drawn, her hands were steady with not a tremble in sight, and she had the hardened gaze of a fighter. This definitely wasn’t her first time.

Cara and Din ran to her side in the barricade and tried their best to catch their breaths. “This is it!” Cara yells at the troops. “Once that thing hits the water, it’s going down.”

Clara looked over worriedly at Din as he draws out his gun. “I’m so glad you guys are alright...” Clara put a hand on his should and for a moment, he could feel her fingers brush the bare patch of skin of his neck between the neckguard and his helmet.

Despite his many layers of armour, Din could feel it. That feeling of contact that made him shiver. It was hard for him to remember the last time someone made him feel like that. “I was going to say the same thing about you.” he kept his voice low, talking in a way that he would only do for her. He takes off the leather satchel and puts in on for her over her head.

“Maker... you were about to find my bag.” Clara breathes. She flips it open and begins rummaging through the main compartment.

“I tried to put as many of your things I could find in there as I possibly could.”

“And my saber?” She murmured, trying her best to hold back tears.

Din wished she could see him smile. “Check the front pocket.”

When Din had initially found the laser-sword, he was almost afraid to touch it. Sure, he was a bounty hunter. He’s held more dangerous weapons in his hands then anyone in the Outer Rim. But magic and lightsabers where considered uncharted territory for him. The fact that this meant so much to her and that it would somehow help in the battle intrigued him and scared him all at the same time.

When _Clara_ cradles the lightsaber in her hands, it’s as if she were holding an ancient priceless treasure. And in a way, it was, he thought. She opens her mouth, as if she were going to say something, when she hears the deaffening stomps of the ATST walker coming their way. She fumbled Din’s blaster into her satchel and gripped the saber tightly in hand, keeping unlit so it would not be a distract to the walker.

“This means so much to me, you have no idea. I wish I could thank you properly, but now’s not the time.” _Properly?_ Din thought. _What the hell did she mean by that?_ Clara looks back up at him and frowns to herself. “S-So… what are we dealing with here? Is the walker as bad as we thought?”

Din wanted to comfort her, but he could tell Clara was definitely not in the mood for him to be spewing bullshit at the moment, so he hit her with the facts. “It’s bad… We were right to train the villagers. We’re going to need all hands on deck.”

Cara Dune prepares her rifle and turns around to look at the soldiers around her. “This is it! Once that thing steps in the pond, it’s going down!” She looks to Clara, Omera and Din, who give her the nod of approval. “WEAPONS READY!”

Everyone raises their weapon, still hiding behind the barricade and maintaining battle positions. The only person left was Clara, who was murmuring words to herself with her saber unlit at her side. “ _I am one with the force, the force is with me…”_ she whispers. _“Be with me Kyri.”_

Din and Cara exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to make of the new forceuser in their lives. But by the relaxed nature of Clara posture and shoulders, she seemed to be more in touch with her connection to the force than ever before. Maybe, just maybe, she knew what she was doing.

The Walker emerges from the forest, crushing any tree in its path as it goes. It steps forward, a few feet away from the pond. “Just a few more steps…” Din mumbles.

But nothing happens. Just as it’s about to dip a foot in, the walker freezes, standing eerily still in a way that makes Din want to yell at the top of it’s lungs. “It stopped.” Cara Dune breathes, sending a panicked look Din’s way that meant that their plan was already beginning to crumble. “Clara, can’t you use your force magic crap and just _make_ it step forward?”

Clara, how was still trying to meditate, opened an eye and sent Din a look of desperation. “That’s not how the force works.” Clara whispers. “Also, it’s not a living thing. I can’t use a Jedi-Mind trick on a machine, even if I could do them.”

Din wonders how many times Clara’s been asked stupid questions like that about her abilities.

The walker turns its high beams on, blinding the troops. That could only mean one thing. “GET DOWN.” Din hisses. “Get down! Don’t let it see you.”

Everyone drops to the ground. Clara hugs her knees and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to make sure her connection to the force wouldn’t sever, and Din puts a protective hand on her shoulder, letting her know that he was still there to support her.

The light swept across the barricade and no one made a sound. Only the mechanical whir of the walker could be heard in the darkness. And then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped moving. The light focuses on a pair of bumbling soldiers in the back, who were just visible enough that Din knew it would be all over.

The Walker fires a blaster canon, causing a massive explosion behind the troops. Clara’s eyes snap open in a panic and she lets out a strangled gasp. “Oh shit…” she breathes.

For a minute, the two soldiers (the idiots Din and Clara met days ago) looked like they were going to bolt, but Cara Dune wasn’t having it. “Duck and cover! HOLD YOUR POSITIONS!” The Walker takes a step back, and a band of Raiders emerge from the forest, as if they were waiting for the explosion as their cue to attack. “OPEN FIRE!” Cara screams.

Din and the other soldiers start shooting away at the Raiders, trying their best to take them out one by one. Din fires a head shot and flinches at the Raider immediately collapses. It looked like it hurt.At that moment, Clara looks at Din, and those green eyes seem to be expressing a thousand emotions at once. It was like she was having deja-vu. All of this was a little too familiar. “If you guys can cover for me as best as you can, I can dry to deflect the Walker’s canon fire!”

And then there’s a hiss and a buzz of pure kyber-crystal energy. Clara is bathed in a glow of magenta light in a way that makes Din’s eyes widen. Never before had he seen a lit lightsaber this close.

“Holy shit…” Cara’s grinning like a mad woman at the sight, while Din, as usual was rendered speechless. “Well, I don’t know about you Mando, but I think she’s got things under control.”

Din grins like an idiot, and he knows if he even opens his mouth, Clara would be able to hear it in his voice. But he didn’t care. “We’ve got your back, Clara.”

Clara, despite the wary look in her eye, gives them a firm nod and stands in front of the Walker. A beam of light, almost like a spotlight flashes on her, and Din swears he can feel his stomach drop of out of nervousness. She raises up her saber, as if she were a knight with a sword, and as a massive blaster shot comes her way, she deflects it with a graceful swish, sending the shot into the Raider’s direction.

Din Djarin had never seen something (or someone) so beautiful yet so dangerous in all of his life. For someone who “wasn’t even a Jedi”, she was a wonder to behold. However, she couldn’t face the Walker alone. “Clara may be saving our asses from the canons, but we still need to get that thing into the water!”

Cara Dune struggles to come up with an idea. “I’m thinking!”

Din keeps his eyes on the battlefield, making sure he vaporizes any raider who dares to get in Clara’s way. She quickly looks over her shoulder and gives him a shy smile of appreciation.

“Alright…” Cara says. “New plan.”

Din tilts his helmet in her direction as he continues shooting. “What did you have in mind?”

Cara looks out to Clara out there in the open. She was a great defense and distraction for the Walker. It just needed a little bit of a push. “Give me the pulse rifle.”

While he was wary about giving Cara one of his most prized weapons, at the end of the day, he trusted her more than anything right about now. He placed it into her hands. “I’ll cover you.” He answers.

As Dune runs out to Clara’s side, Din takes out his abandoned blaster that she had abandoned at his side.

Trying to shoot the Walker in the eye while also avoiding the diverted canon fire, Dune heads straight for the pond for cover. “Listen Clara, just try not to send those in my direction, okay? I’ve got a lot going on here.”

Clara blocks blasterfire with her saber in one hand and _levitates_ two raiders with the force using her other hand. Din couldn’t deny it… it could have been one of the most attractive displays he had ever seen. “I’m trying!” Clara shouts. “Just focus on getting that damn thing in the water so I can have a breather.” She slams the two Raiders to the ground and they crash onto the ground with a terrifying slam.

Dune tried to shoot the Walker in the face, but a band of Raiders had stormed over to her and distracted her, causing her to miss. The Walker, now realizing what she was doing, tried firing at her with its canons.

“God dammit.” Clara breathed. She turns around to meet Din’s gaze again. “I’ve got to go further in and help her.” Before Din could reply, she breaks into a sprint, slicing any raider who Dares to come their way.

~

Clara felt naked and vulnerable. It was the only way she could describe it all.

She couldn’t remember the last time she was this open about her connection to the force in public. Truth be told, for the longest time, she thought she had severed her connection with the force all together. There was nothing to show off. Maker knows how many times she had tried to escape Jabba’s palace. She couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t feel anyone. She had nothing to defend herself with. Clara had been empty.

And then she had arrived on Sorgen. There had been a change; a shift in the force, and suddenly, after years of struggle, she felt it ebb and flow through her all over again, as if it had never even left. Arriving here was no mistake. Sure, had intended on coming here for its peace and quiet, but was that really what drew her in?

Clara thought back to when her and the kid had met. There was this magnetic connection between them, as if it were fate foretold by the masters that had come before her. There was one thing that was certain: her and Grogu were incredibly alike. Both were victims of their upbringing and swept up by misfortune and circumstance, only to come together thanks to a Beskar-clad Mandalorian. Both had so much power with so much more left to learn.

This fight with the walker and the Raiders and the power that she was displaying was nothing in comparison to what she could become, and that scared her and thrilled her all at the same time. She never thought she’d be able to feel the force again, let alone use it along with her saber in battle.

Clara came close to Cara’s side at the water’s edge, far enough away that the diverted blaster canon fire shots and the approaching raiders wouldn’t get in the way of her shot. Her eyes fluttered shut and yet again, she felt the force flow from her free hand to her saber hand, guiding her from Raider to Raider to shot to shot.

Despite their differences, the two worked well together. Clara was doing the dance of defense, stopping anyone from getting in her friends’ way. And then there was Cara Dune, always wanting to get the last shot in not matte the case or cost.

Once Clara was able to divert a shot far enough away, the Walker shined a line on Dune, creating the perfect angle for her to shoot her shot in the eye. The Walker sparked and sputtered being falling into the pond, erupting into flame.

Clara hears someone yell from behind her as she took out another Raider in her path. There was Din, sprinting towards the fallen AT-ST and throwing an explosive in its direction. The final part of the plan. _“Clara! LOOK OUT.”_ Everything happened so fast. Clara felt Din shove her out harm’s way and into the pond, leaving them absolutely drenched and collapsed together side by side.

More fire appears around them, but they have nothing to fear. The Walker had finally been destroyed. The Raiders cried out in defeat of their greatest weapon being destroyed, along with most of their tropes, and they all abandon the scene, bolting back to the treeline where they belonged.

As the Villagers erupted into cheers of celebration. They were finally free.

“Was that the plan?” Din joked softly.

Cara Dune chuckled to herself and sent a smirk Din’s way “Something like that.”  
  
The two then looked over at Clara, who had yet to say a word post-battle. She was rasping for breath and found herself leaning into Din’s side from exhaustion, the aftermath of fully accessing the force finally catching up to her. “How are you holding up? If you’re anything like the kid, you must be exhausted.” There’s an affectionate inflection to Din’s voice that makes her heart flutter.

“I-I’m okay…” Clara murmurs. This whole battle had been so much for her to take in that she didn’t stop to realize that maybe she had pushed herself a little too hard. “That was my first time using the force like that in years…"

Her eyes flutter shut for a moment and she can feel a Baskar-clad arm pull her in closer to let her rest. “You were amazing out there.” He said warmly. “It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”


	7. Bonus Feature - Clara's Lightsaber

I put a lot of thought into how I wanted Clara's lightsaber to look. After much thought, I decided to take inspiration for Mara Jade Skywalker, a Star Wars Legacy character from some of the novels and games Pre-Disney Deal. (If you don't know who she is, look her up. She is SO INTERESTING, and there was a rumour out there for a while that she would appear in a flashback scene of Rise of Skywalker. I'll leave it at that) Magenta lightsabers are now officially part of the canon from some of the Star Wars video games and I just HAD to include one here. I'll leave a link for this wonderful piece of fan art below. 

<https://www.artstation.com/artwork/92DEN>

\- C


End file.
